


time (has numbered my days)

by SiriCerasi



Series: this war's not over [5]
Category: Haven - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Audrey Parker's Crazy Brain, Claire's Vampire-Slaying Stake, Communication Failure, Did I Mention Angst?, Episode Tag, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Girls with Guns, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD, Prescription Medication, So much angst, Therapy, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-01
Updated: 2013-01-08
Packaged: 2017-11-17 13:49:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 25,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/552232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SiriCerasi/pseuds/SiriCerasi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Post 3.06 "Real Estate") It’s all so fucked up, so far from where they’d started, so far from where they should be. And she’d take all of it back, she’d forgive everything, if he could just be here right now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. write home laughing 'look at me now'

**Author's Note:**

> **Characters/pairings:** Audrey + Claire friendship (dear muse, we're keeping it that way, kay?), (hopefully) eventual Nathan/Audrey, Duke Crocker (probably, to kick Nathan's ass, I hope), Jordan McKee, Jordan/Nathan (possibly? I don't even know what this story is doing)  
>  **Spoilers:** through 3.06 (Real Estate)  
>  **Author's Notes:** Written for my [](http://hc-bingo.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://hc-bingo.livejournal.com/)**hc_bingo** prompt "disappearing".
> 
> I have 4 parts written, and I think there will be at least... 4 or 5 more. I have a nasty habit of writing episode tags but never finishing them before the following episode, so I never get around to posting. So this will probably go AU, but for now it's all canon.
> 
> I'm trying really, really hard to make this Nathan/Audrey, because 1. FEELS 2. REASONS 3. My friend threatened me with horrible things if I don't (aka I don't get my christmas present. Yeah I'm shallow like that). But they're really not cooperating, especially Nathan who is being a jackass. Also Audrey and Claire are kind of trying to hook up, and my muse is really not cooperating with me. I don't know what this story is doing.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Audrey tries to smile, she really does, but memories of Lucy flash through her mind and everything hurts again, _everything_. She’d looked so _sad_ every time in every flashback, so lonely. Maybe that’s who she really was, underneath this network of other people’s memories. _Lonely_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features Audrey and Claire friendship, with a whole lot of Audrey/Nathan angsting.
> 
> The whole story is going to be Mumford & Sons themed, because literally every fucking song on their new album SCREAMS Haven to me. Song for this chapter is "[Babel](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uc4NvjzdHZ8)".

 

_and my ears hear the call of my unborn sons,_  
 _and i know the choices color all i've done_  
 _but I'll explain it all to the watchman's son,_  
 _i ain't ever lived a year better spent in love_

 

Nathan disappears with Jordan, and for half a second Audrey contemplates shooting herself in the head.

It already hurts enough to believe she had, between the bleeding and the passing out and probably hitting her head on the floor a few times.

She’s pretty sure seeing Nathan with Jordan is worse, though. Or not just that; Nathan doesn’t even seem to realize Audrey exists anymore. He won’t even look at her, like she’s already disappeared.

It makes everything seem a thousand times worse, makes it not even worth fighting to stay.

“How you doing?” Claire’s voice startles her, more than it should.

She waves a hand vaguely, mutters, “Fine, just tired.” Claire gives her that therapist look, and Audrey sighs. “I just want to go home, okay?”

“You really need to see a doctor.”

“I thought you were a doctor?”

Claire’s mouth twitches. “Cute,” she drawls. Watches Audrey for another moment, then sighs. “Okay, come on. I’ll take you home.” The thought of driving in any car but Nathan’s makes her stomach turn. But he clearly didn’t care how Audrey got home, or if she even did, or if she was okay, or-

“Audrey.” Claire’s voice is gentle and Audrey realizes she must look like absolute crap. “Come on.”

She slips into a half-doze on the drive, hazy bits of memories flittering in and out of her mind. She has no idea whose they are. Claire shakes her gently awake when they get to the Gull, and Audrey moans. God, but her head _hurts_. Claire looks at her with concern, visibly biting her tongue, and helps her stand. Audrey wants to protest, but knows she probably won’t make it inside on her own at this point anyway.

By the time they get up the stairs and inside she’s almost crying with pain and exhaustion, and Claire looks ready to call an ambulance.

“I’m okay,” Audrey gasps, collapsing on her bed. “I just need to sleep.”

“You’re not even close to okay,” Claire retorts tightly. “And I don’t know how I let you talk me into not getting you to the hospital.”

“And what the hell would they do for it?” Audrey snaps, patience beyond worn. “I just need to last another couple weeks, and then it doesn’t matter.” Fuck. She hadn’t meant to say that, not to her fucking _therapist_. Claire looks almost heartbroken, her face a mask of concern and sadness that makes Audrey want to cry.

Instead she rolls onto her back, closing her eyes. Her head is pounding so hard there’s no way she’ll be able to sleep, but she can’t bring herself to ask the doctor for anything.

The bed creaks as Claire sits beside her, and Audrey opens her eyes at the shake of pills in a bottle. She gulps them down with a mumbled “thanks”, closes her eyes again.

“It matters, Audrey.” Even Claire’s soft voice makes Audrey’s head pound louder. “Of course it matters. Maybe not to you, but the people here who care about you don’t want to watch you suffer.” _Then why did Nathan just leave me all alone?_ she wants to scream. But screaming would hurt, and hearing the words would hurt even more.

“Not so sure about that,” she mutters instead.

She opens her eyes to see a flash of anger on the therapist’s face, wonders what the hell she did wrong this time. “Nathan was an asshole today,” Claire almost growls. It makes Audrey smile unexpectedly; the muscles ache from disuse.

“I thought you were supposed to be understanding and nonjudgmental, doc,” she quips.

Claire’s mouth tightens. “Yeah, with my patients I am. Nathan’s not my patient.” Audrey finds her smile fading, presses her hands to her forehead. She can _feel_ Claire staring, hopes she’s not bleeding again. “You know you can talk to me about that too, right?” Claire asks. “We don’t only need to talk about the troubles.”

Audrey huffs a laugh. “Yeah, but then you’d be my therapist therapist and not just a… a work necessity.” It comes out a little harsher than she’d meant, but her thoughts seem to hit her mouth entirely unfiltered at the moment. “Sorry, that sounded…”

Claire shakes her head. “Believe me, I’ve been called worse. Look, why don’t you just think of me as a friend right now? This entire situation is pretty… abnormal…” (Audrey chokes) “…and I think you could really use one.”

Audrey winces, pushes herself into a half-sitting position against the pillows with her legs curled up. “Never really been good in that department,” she sighs. The dizziness has passed, some, although her head still hurts horribly.

“I don’t think that’s true.” Claire shifts to sit cross legged in front of Audrey. “Okay, so I didn’t know you before you got to Haven, but you have friends here, Audrey. There’s a lot of people who care about you, past lives or not.”

Audrey tries to smile, she really does, but memories of Lucy flash through her mind and everything hurts again, _everything_. She’d looked so _sad_ every time in every flashback, so lonely. Maybe that’s who she really was, underneath this network of other people’s memories. _Lonely_. A walking aberration, the only one to truly see these troubled people, the only one who can help them, but a complete outsider. Never remembering enough until too late, never truly a part of the community. And yet so integrally connected to it, so drawn, like helping the troubled was written in her DNA.

What kind of sick person would make her need to help people in a place that could never love her?

Claire’s hand on her arm snaps her back to reality and she realizes she’s crying, tears dripping onto the pillow. “Sure,” she chokes. “A smuggler and a cop who seems to want to forget me as quickly as possible. Very long list.” She wipes angrily at her cheeks, finds a little blood dripping from her nose. “ _Dammit_.” Claire already has kleenex for her, and the look of deep concern is back.

“Audrey, you can’t keep doing this,” the doctor almost pleads.

“It’s probably just… leftover from before or something,” Audrey hedges. “I didn’t pass out, I didn’t remember anything else, okay? I’m not trying to anymore. Not yet.”

Claire’s head whips up and she glares with doctor eyes. “Not _ever_. You’re _killing_ yourself, do you understand that?”

Audrey’s first thought is _so?_ and somehow she doesn’t think she should say that out loud.

“It won’t matter soon,” she says instead, again, because isn’t that her excuse for everything these days? It’s her shell, the mantra she repeats over and over to keep herself sane. _Soon I won’t have to deal with any of this, soon I won’t have to care, just a few more weeks_ …

“Okay, you need to stop with that,” Claire snaps. “You’re not positive you’ll disappear, Audrey. You don’t know _what_ is going to happen. Maybe your injuries carry over to next time, did you think about that?”

Honestly, she hadn’t. Because she really doesn’t care, because whoever she is next won’t remember being Audrey Parker. Until she does, and by then future her probably won’t care either.

“So what, I’m supposed to just… just continue with this cycle forever?” she demands. “Just keep building up memories, keep coming into people’s lives and tearing them apart and then just vanishing?” Sometimes she wishes she’d never reincarnated. Wishes Lucy had just died, without leaving her this mess to deal with. A mess that isn’t hers and is, so intimately.

“You _save_ people’s lives, Audrey,” Claire insists. “You know that.”

“And Nathan?” Her voice cracks on his name and she can’t bring herself to care anymore. “God, what have I done to him?” There are tears streaming down her cheeks now, unstoppable. “I didn’t want to hurt him, I just... I just wanted to be a normal person, just in this one thing, I just…” She sees anger flash on Claire’s face again, but she just squeezes Audrey’s hand gently. And that one simple touch just _breaks_ her.

Audrey Parker doesn’t cry. Except when she does, and then it’s like the floodgates of months of pent up emotion come roaring open, and suddenly she’s sobbing so hard she can’t breathe or see or hear or think, can only feel _pain_. Physical, mental, emotional, every kind there is; Jordan’s touch couldn’t possibly be worse.

She feels Claire’s hands on her shoulders, supporting her gently, and suddenly Audrey is desperate for touch, connection, _belonging_. She lists forward, collapses against her… friend? and buries her face in the doctor’s shoulder. And cries, and cries.

Claire wraps her arms carefully around her, murmuring what are probably soothing things in Audrey’s ear, but Audrey can’t hear anything but her own mind and sobs. Because after all of this, after everything they’ve been through together, Nathan isn’t _here_ and she needs him more than anyone or anything she’s ever needed in her life, in any of her lives. Because she’s scared, she’s beyond scared, she’s remembering things she shouldn’t or should and she’d given herself brain hemorrhage to get him out of that house and he couldn’t even look at her, couldn’t see anything but fucking _Jordan_.

Because all of this is her fault, because he’d only gone to Jordan after Audrey had pushed him away, because all she wants is to keep him safe and try to make her inevitable disappearance as easy as possible for him but instead he’s bribing judges and setting prisoners free and it’s all so fucked up, so far from where they’d started, so far from where they should be.

And she’d take all of it back, she’d forgive everything, if he could just be here right now.

Audrey’s intensely glad that Claire hadn’t let her get away, that she’d pushed and pushed until Audrey had agreed to see her. Because right now she’s pretty sure she’d just snap without someone _here_. Fingers run soothingly along her back, grounding her, reminding her that she’s still here, she’s still real, she’s still _Audrey_. Whatever the hell that means.

She has no idea how long she cries, but eventually the tears run out and she just feels beyond drained, throat hoarse and face puffy. Claire brushes hair from her eyes when she pulls back, that look on her face again. There’s an ache in Audrey’s chest, that part of her that always craved human connection so _desperately_. The family she’d never had, the friends she’d never made. The basic sentimentalities she’d missed, affections she’d never learned to receive. Support she’d never learned how to ask for.

She’s not used to someone pushing past the rigid boundaries she’s set, refusing to let her wall herself in.

Claire grabs some more kleenex. “Feeling better?” she asks. Audrey gives a watery chuckle, shrugs.

“Not really,” she mumbles. “I hate crying.”

Claire smiles a little. “Most of us do, but sometimes it’s necessary. You’ve got so much bottled up, Audrey, you need to let some of it go.” She holds up a finger before Audrey can open her mouth, snips, “Don’t you dare say it only needs to last a little longer, I am not letting you use that excuse any more.” Audrey just rubs her eyes wearily.

“You need to talk to Nathan,” Claire continues, not unkindly. “I get that you want to protect him, but this is… it’s so far beyond that now, Audrey. He’s your partner, if nothing else. Your friend.”

“That’s why it’s better this way.” Audrey hears her voice tremor. Traitor. “It’ll be easier for him when I…” She swallows, turning away. The closer it gets, the harder it is to think about. What will it be like? Will it hurt? Will she experience time, or just… nothing? Will she watch the world turn for 27 years, unable to see or touch or feel, witness the people she cares about grow and love and hurt and die?

It’s too much. It’s far too much, and Nathan doesn’t need to be sucked into it with her.

“It’ll be easier if he hates me,” she finishes. “And I’m… I’m glad he found Jordan. I want him to be happy. This way… this way will be easier.”

“For him.” Claire’s voice actually sounds a little strangled. “But what about _you_ , Audrey?”

“Nathan-”

“I don’t care about Nathan!” Claire’s anger snaps Audrey’s head up. “Nathan is not my patient or my friend. You are.” Audrey’s mouth works, speechless. She’s never speechless. “God, Audrey, you are so convinced that everyone’s life matters but yours, that you’re just here to… to save everyone else. But you’re a _person_. You’re a human being with thoughts and feelings and emotions and even if you’re only around for a few months that doesn’t change the fact that you are as alive as me or Nathan or anyone else in this town. You are a living, breathing, _feeling_ woman who has been through a hell of a lot in these past few months, and I don’t care _what_ everyone else says or what you think you need to do for this town, you are _not_ just a… a _tool_.” Audrey finds herself swallowing against a lump in her throat, pushing down the panic that comes at someone actually _voicing_ it. She’s known it, she’s always known that half the town hated her and the other half was using her, but no one ever said a damn thing.

Except Claire.

And she’s not done, apparently. “Maybe you pushing Nathan away _will_ help him, but frankly, I don’t give a damn,” she’s saying. “It’s hurting _you_ , Audrey, and that’s what I care about. You shouldn’t have to carry this entire town on your back all alone.”

When Audrey can speak, she whispers, “You’re really not giving up on me, are you?” Claire smiles.

“Wouldn’t be any good at my job if I did.” Audrey feels her face crumple a little, tries desperately to smile through it. Claire, of course, will have none of it. “You do know I’m a therapist, right?” she deadpans. “And I’m trained to read body language?” She raises an eyebrow at Audrey. “You can’t fool me, Audrey. I probably have a better idea of what you’re feeling than you do.” _That_ gets a laugh, because it’s so horribly true.

“Okay, you need to sleep,” Claire orders gently. “You’ve been through way too much today.” Audrey nods, too tired to argue. She’d forgotten the pain in her head momentarily, distracted by thoughts, but it suddenly comes raging back in. Claire grabs her shoulders as she clutches her head, moaning. “Shh, alright, just lay down.”

At this point it’s all she can do to collapse on the pillows, praying she doesn’t bleed on them during the night. Claire pulls a blanket over her, hand resting on her shoulder as Audrey shivers. She feels tears on her cheeks again, but this time from pain, and covers her face with her hands.

“Audrey…” There’s an almost panicked undertone to Claire’s voice.

“I jus’ need to sleep…” she chokes out. Because really, that’s all. She needs to be oblivious to the world for awhile, give her brain a chance to reset. She’ll be fine tomorrow. Of course she’ll be fine tomorrow.

Claire’s hand leaves her shoulder, and she feels inexplicably colder. Smaller. But then her fingers comb gently through Audrey’s hair, soothing and methodic, somehow taking the edge off the pain. Audrey feels tense muscles relax, slowly, realizes she was almost panting as her breathing evens out.

“That help?” Claire asks softly. Audrey gives the slightest nod, not trusting her voice. “Okay, then close your eyes. Sleep. Just let everything go for tonight.” And somehow, impossibly, Audrey’s mind obeys. She finds herself more relaxed than she has been in weeks, now that she’s not alone. She’s been so on guard, ever since the kidnapping, never fully sleeping. Never enough.

It’s been so draining.

She trusts Claire, she realizes, as she slips toward sleep. Even if she’s a shrink, even if she doesn’t know how to use a gun, Audrey trusts her.

So she finally sleeps.

 

  
_i press my nose up to the glass around your heart_   
_i should've known i was weaker from the start_   
_you'll build your walls and i will play my bloody part_   
_to tear_   
_tear them down_   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are love! =)


	2. but my heart was colder when you'd gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'You have a partner, do you remember that?' It seems he’s never going to get a full sentence in around her. 'Name Audrey Parker, ring any bells?'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Characters/pairings:** This chapter features Claire and Nathan. And no, they're not even friendly, let alone romantic.
> 
>  **Spoilers:** through 3.06 (Real Estate)
> 
>  **Author's Notes:** Written for my [](http://hc-bingo.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://hc-bingo.livejournal.com/)**hc_bingo** prompt "disappearing".
> 
> This chapter is still canon, by like 4 hours lol. Basically, Claire is a BAMF and Nathan is a jackass. Also featuring Claire's stake.
> 
> The whole story is going to be Mumford & Sons themed, because literally every fucking song on their new album SCREAMS Haven to me. Song for this chapter is "[Whispers In The Dark](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KIj8CdQPZhk)".

  
_you hold your truth so purely_   
_swerve not through the minds of men_   
_this lie is dead_   
_and this cup of yours tastes holy_   
_but a brush with the devil can clear your mind_   
_strengthen your spine_   


 

Nathan doesn’t fear much. A lot of that probably comes from not feeling; not only does he not have to worry about things hurting, but it leaves him already somewhat detached from the world. But when Claire Callahan comes storming into his office, still in her vampire slayer outfit looking quite ready to… well, slay him – yeah, Nathan’s scared.

She slams the door shut, stalks the two feet to his desk. “So I’m trying to decide if you’re being cruel or just absolutely oblivious,” she growls, no preamble. Nathan blinks.

“What-”

She steamrolls over him. “And honestly, _Chief_ , I don’t know which one is worse.” Nathan feels a headache coming on, pinches the bridge of his nose. He may not be able to feel it on his skin, but the pressure is welcome.

“Look, doc,” he starts, but she cuts him off again.

“ _Don’t_ call me that.” He sees fear flick across her face, wonders for the thousandth time if he really, _really_ knows Jordan.

“Alright, _Doctor Callahan_ , I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about. It’s late, it’s been a _very_ long day, and-”

“You have a partner, do you remember that?” It seems he’s never going to get a full sentence in around her. “Name Audrey Parker, ring any bells?”

Nathan likes sarcasm. Nathan is the king of sarcasm. But he really, really doesn’t like this. So he reverts to stoicism, monotones, “Parker’s fine, so I don’t-” He breaks off at the look on her face – a mix between disgusted and shocked and horrified – and suddenly there’s a panic in his gut, a ringing in his ears.

“Audrey should be in a hospital,” the therapist snaps, and Nathan’s throat closes over and he thinks he might throw up. “Instead she’s at home because she’s so damn fixated on saving _you_ , and here you are with no fucking idea.” Nathan can’t breathe. It’s like all the air left the room, like his lungs seized up and his chest collapsed. He wants to ask what the fuck she’s talking about, he _needs_ to ask, but the words just cannot form.

Luckily, she saves him the trouble, and plows on with terrifying venom. “You honestly don’t know.” Yeah, he’s pretty sure they’d established that. “While you were busy with _Jordan_ , Audrey was having flashbacks to being Lucy. Flashbacks that were so intense they made her pass out and her brain start to _bleed_.”

Oh, god.

Claire’s voice just keeps going, ringing in his ears. “Do you even know how we got out? How Audrey knew what to do?” He stares dumbly. “While we were all busy trying to _kill_ each other, Audrey went back to the secret room where the Holloway women were – she found them, by the way, which I assume you missed – because she knew Lucy had been trapped there before, and had gotten out. She knew the flashbacks were hurting her, maybe _killing_ her, but she went back anyway, to save us.” His brain tells him numbly that yes, that certainly sounds like Audrey. “Hell, Tommy had to practically carry her back to us, which you might have noticed if you’d spared her a _glance_ , Nathan. Maybe you might’ve noticed she was _bleeding_.”

For a moment Nathan thinks he might actually pass out. Because he really can’t breathe, and his thoughts are spinning as fast as Parker’s do, and Claire is glaring at him like he’s some kind of monster. Which, in retrospect, maybe he is.

How had he _not_ noticed? Sure, she’d looked pale when he’d found her with the doctor while looking for Jordan. But they’d all probably looked like crap, and he’d known she could take care of herself. Right? She always takes care of herself. She doesn’t want his protection, she doesn’t _need_ it. She told him that much. And sure, he hadn’t listened, had continued researching the Colorado Kid and the bolt gun killer, but…

But she doesn’t want his help. She’s made that abundantly clear.

Still, how could he not have noticed? He’d been angry, protective of Jordan. She’d only been there because of him, and the rest of them certainly didn’t trust her. If she’d died, he would’ve lost all connections with the Guard permanently.

But _Audrey_ …

Claire finally stops pacing, seems to deflate in the face of his silence. She sinks into a chair with a sigh, tells him, “Look, whatever else is going on with you two, she’s your _partner_. And I know you both have serious communication issues, but if you don’t start talking to her she’s going to self-destruct.”

That almost makes him laugh. Because everyone seems to forget she’s _not_ his partner anymore, that technically he’s her boss and he actually finds it pretty damn hilarious that she doesn’t listen to a word he says. As though he could ever, _ever_ make her do something, or talk her out of something she’s set on.

And that just makes him angry and hopeless all over again, so he just bites, “You’re not my therapist.”

“No, I’m hers,” she snaps right back. “And that’s why I’m here. Because the way she’s going right now, she’s going to get herself killed before she has a chance to disappear.” Nathan flinches, his stomach a knot. Granted, Audrey’s always running around making impulsive decisions that nearly killed her. He had met her when she’d been about to fall off a cliff…

“I’m serious,” Claire continues, watching him. “These things she’s remembering, they’ve been physically blocked in her brain. Every time she pushes at one, she bursts those walls. Literally. Like, blood out her nose literally.” Nathan almost gags, takes a few rapid, shallow breaths. “I’m afraid she’s going to keep going, to keep trying to find out what happened to the Colorado Kid. To make sure it doesn’t happen to you.”

Oh _god_.

“Why… why would she…” It’s the only thing he can get out, choked around the massive lump in his throat.

Claire just looks at him. “She’s trying to protect you. And normally, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. But these are not normal circumstances, and I’m seriously concerned she’s going to get herself badly hurt or killed. And I’m pretty sure you’re the only person who can stop her from doing that.”

He wants to laugh all over again. “She doesn’t listen to me.”

Claire just gives him an _are-you-serious_ look. “You’d be surprised how much your opinion matters to her,” she asserts wryly, like to a stupid child.

But he still can’t get over the fact that she’s doing this to _protect_ him. _Him_. His first thought is about how extremely unfair it is that she’s allowed to do that while he’s not allowed to do it for her, and his second is protect him from _what_ , and his third is that she’d said the Colorado Kid and Lucy had loved the Colorado Kid and that could only mean…

Oh, god.

He remembers the look on her face when he’d taken Jordan’s hand, the way she hadn’t even been able to take her eyes off their entwined fingers. How she’d looked ready to cry. But he hadn’t taken it seriously, because she _knew_. She knew it was only a cover.

But if he can’t even convince himself of that anymore, he can only imagine how she feels.

How had this happened? How the _fuck_ did they get here?

Claire is still staring at him and he still can’t say anything, can’t force words past the lump in his throat, the anvil on his chest. Finally, she stands, a sad look on her face. “Someone needs to stay with her tonight, make sure she doesn’t bleed to death in her sleep.” His stomach wrenches, his head spins as the edges of his vision go white, and he still can’t say a fucking thing.

“I’d rather it be you,” Claire is saying, and he wants to speak, to say _of course_ , but his mouth opens and the first words that come out are, “I need to check on Jordan,” and he thinks Claire might actually stab him with her vampire-slaying stake. (Why the hell had she even brought that thing? Was she expecting to kill him?)

Claire walks out without another word, and he’s pretty sure her silence is worse than anything she could’ve said.

  
_and fingers tap into what you were once_  
 _and i'm worried that i blew my only chance_

  
_whispers in the dark_  
 _steal a kiss and you'll break a heart_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are love! Seriously, they make me think for five seconds that I'm not a horrible writer. Yay!


	3. but in the dark i have no name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "No, you’re not staying up all night, especially not to watch over me. I’m fine, alright? I would’ve bled out by now if it was going to happen, and I promise to wake you up if I’m dying."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Spoilers:** Through 3.06 (Real Estate)
> 
> **Author's Notes:** Written for my [](http://hc-bingo.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://hc-bingo.livejournal.com/)**hc_bingo** prompt "disappearing".
> 
> So this is still basically canon, and the next few chapters as well. I have an AU part written, mainly on Jordan's part, we'll see if it sticks or not. I'm also debating whether or not to keep Audrey and Nathan's relationship relatively canon, considering this takes place before Magic Hour. Especially because I definitely noticed a shift, at least in Nathan's attitude toward both Audrey and Jordan. He actually JOKED around Audrey, things weren't QUITE so awkward and he seemed to be using Jordan more than enjoying himself. So I'm pretty sure that's where this is going to end up going, because I over-analyze everything on this show and minute changes like that OBVIOUSLY require an explanation. In fic form. (I think I need a Haven Addicts Anonymous group of something...)
> 
> Anyway, this chapter is more of Claire and Audrey. Enjoy!
> 
> Song for this chapter is "Hopeless Wanderer".

 

  
_i wrestled long with my youth_   
_we tried so hard to live in the truth_   
_but do not tell me all is fine_   
_when i lose my head, i lose my spine_   


_**hold me fast, cause i'm a hopeless wanderer** _

 

Audrey is still asleep when Claire returns, thankfully not bleeding or dead. Claire can't help but feel guilty over these traumatic flashbacks, as she'd pushed Audrey into trying to remember in the first place. She hadn't realized just how deeply buried the memories were.

She'd stopped at her place on the way back to pick up some sweats, and changes out of her costume gratefully. There's only so long she can tramp around as a high school cheerleader, even with a stake. She dumps a briefcase of paperwork on the table, sits with a sigh. There's no way she's sleeping tonight, not with Audrey hurt and her adrenaline still running high. Not after seeing Jordan again. So she might as well get something useful done.

She's been going for about an hour when Audrey starts shifting, her breathing erratic. Claire approaches slowly, uncertainly. She's not sure what capacity she's here in right now, what exactly her relationship with Audrey Parker is. This entire situation is way out of the norm, and Claire knows enough about the troubles to know how important Audrey is. She's followed her from afar since she'd arrived in Haven, courtesy of the many patients Audrey had helped. And if she's discovered anything, it's that Audrey is absolutely incredible, selfless in a way that very few are. To the point of it being self-destructive, which is the part that worries Claire.

What she's found since working with Audrey is how utterly _lonely_ she is. Claire hadn't fully appreciated her situation before; returning for a few months every 27 years, returning with no friends or family and then having to leave the few she finds. There's nothing Claire could say or do to make that any easier, at least not easier for _Audrey_. Who seems determined to make it easier on everyone else by isolating herself, not letting anyone care too much. And Claire's not sure she has enough time to change that. Therapy isn't a quick fix; it's something that takes _time_ , and time is not something Audrey has.

It's beyond frustrating. She'd hoped maybe Nathan could convince Audrey to stop _pushing_ , but Nathan has his own massive complex of issues and seems to have taken Audrey's pushing at face value. Which is just _stupid_ , if he'd known her more than five minutes. She'd nearly staked him earlier tonight, when he'd listened with glazed eyes to her rant, looked so tortured she'd been _sure_ he'd help, and then turned back to Jordan.

Jordan. Claire knows she can't think impartially when it comes to the woman, not after the stunt she'd pulled. And so she'd just left the station, before she got into an argument with Nathan she couldn't win, before she lost whatever respect the man might have for her.

Audrey starts thrashing, mumbling meaningless words, and Claire is at her side. She doesn't know if the dreams are as harmful as the triggered flashbacks, but she's not willing to risk it. Especially tonight.

"Audrey," she murmurs, shaking her shoulder gently. "Audrey, wake up. You need to wake up."

She does, with a gasp that makes Claire's throat hurt. And then she goes for her gun, shoving wildly at Claire with a small yelp. Luckily for Claire, she's too tangled in the sheets to get her gun before Claire can half-yell her name, trying to calm her.

"Audrey, it's okay, it's Claire. You're home, you're safe, it's okay." Audrey points the gun at Claire, hands shaking so badly she probably couldn't pull the trigger, but Claire raises her hands anyway. She's getting really sick of having guns pulled on her; not really in the job description. "It's just me," she soothes. "You were dreaming, I didn't want to risk you having another flashback. It's alright, Audrey."

"Claire?" Her voice, shaking and uncertain, is one Claire hardly recognizes. Would never have thought could come from Audrey Parker's mouth.

"Yeah, it's just me," she says again, calm and even. "You're safe, Audrey, okay?" Honestly, in the wake of everything that'd happened recently Claire had almost forgotten that the cop had been abducted and tortured a few weeks ago. (That probably said something about the inhumane level of stress they're all under, especially Audrey, but there'll be time enough to look at that later.)

The blonde drops the gun and it clatters to the floor (and Claire really hopes the safety is on), presses her hands to her mouth in horror. "Oh, god, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" she whispers. Claire can hardly understand her.

"It's alright," she murmurs, lowering her hands slowly. "I shouldn't've scared you like that, it was my own fault." Audrey just shakes her head, her whole body trembling, hair a sweaty mess, and suddenly Claire knows that she needs a friend right now a hell of a lot more than she needs a therapist.

Claire shifts closer, reaches out to put a hand on Audrey's shoulder. "It's okay," she says gently. She slowly, carefully pulls Audrey into a hug, and the way the cop just collapses against her brings Claire close to tears. She can't imagine how _scared_ Audrey must be, how utterly lost and alone she must feel. How much she's just needed a friend.

"You're safe here," she soothes, as Audrey shakes against her. "Shh, honey, you're gonna be fine, I promise." The platitudes come easily, somehow, although she's not normally in the habit of using them. But right now, in her panicked state, she knows it's what Audrey needs to hear.

The other woman's ragged gasping is painful to listen to. Claire slowly runs her hand along Audrey's back, trying to calm her down. She knows how desperately Audrey needs to be in control, of everything she can. Because in this town, there is _so much_ the cop _can't_ control, so much about herself and her life (and her past lives) that is hidden and twisted, dangled in front of her like the proverbial carrot. And especially because in 30-odd days, she's just going to vanish, and there's seemingly nothing Audrey can do about it. (And she's not fighting it. That's what worries Claire the most – Audrey is, if anything, a fighter. So why isn't she _fighting_?)

Having her own body betray her, first with flashbacks and now panic attacks, must be sending Audrey right to the edge. So Claire does what she can to soothe her, whispers, "Breathe," again and again. "Just breathe, Audrey."

She does, eventually.

Claire almost finds herself hoping this _is_ from another repressed memory, because if it's not then this has probably been happening for months, and the thought of Audrey waking up alone like this makes Claire nauseous.

Still, that makes the therapist panic for a moment. "Hey, Audrey, I need you to look at me," she commands gently. She takes Audrey's face in her hands, pulls back. "Hey, hey, are you bleeding? Dizzy? New memories?" But there's no blood, and Audrey's shaking her head.

"N-no," Audrey chokes. "No, j-just…" She struggles to take a deep breath, still obviously trembling. "God, I hate this." She wipes at her face, hand pressed to her forehead.

"Still hurt?" Claire asks, worried all over again.

"No, it's… it's better should be gone by morning it's fine..." It'd taken Claire about five minutes with Audrey to know she rambles when she's… well, just about any heightened state of emotion.

"Okay," she soothes. "Okay, Audrey, relax. Breathe. You're still exhausted, it's only been a few hours." Audrey takes a few more breaths, then looks up in confusion.

"You're still here," she states, like it's a revelation.

Claire raises an eyebrow. "Observant. I can see why you're a detective." Audrey makes a face, lips twitching. "Someone needs to make sure you don't bleed out in your sleep," Claire explains. Oops. She should really work on that filter.

Audrey shudders. "You were gone earlier…"

"Had something I needed to do." Audrey _looks_ at her, and Claire wonders if this is how people feel in her office.

"You went to see Nathan," Audrey states. Claire can't help feeling like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

"I needed a change of clothes," she hedges, but Audrey clearly isn't buying it, and since when did Claire get defensive with anyone? Especially patients?

Yeah, friends is definitely a better definition for them.

Especially when Audrey's face falls, and all Claire wants to do is drive back to the station and punch Nathan. Hard. Possibly multiple times. "He doesn't want to see me," Audrey says softly. It's not a question.

Claire sighs. "That's not it." She doesn't know _what_ it is, exactly, and she doesn't think either of them are in any position to be working this out tonight. "Look, this is not the time for this, alright?"

"Wow, a therapist doesn't want to talk," Audrey smirks.

"I'm just a friend right now."

Audrey nods. "I think I like that better," she murmurs sleepily. Claire can't help smiling.

"You are just too tired to think much of anything," she corrects wryly. "Sleep, Audrey. We'll talk when your brain isn't bleeding anymore." Audrey makes a face, but obediently collapses back onto the pillows.

When Claire stands, walks back toward the table, Audrey's voice stops her. "You are not serious," she states, a cop edge to her voice.

"I wouldn't be able to sleep tonight anyway, I might as well get some work done while making sure you don't die," she quips, but Audrey is shaking her head.

"No, you're not staying up all night, especially not to watch over me. I'm fine, alright? I would've bled out by now if it was going to happen, and I promise to wake you up if I'm dying."

"Audrey-"

"Bed, Claire. Now." Claire just raises an eyebrow as Audrey points beside her. "Friends tonight, remember? Get over here and sleep. I'm sure you'll have a ton of other peoples' problems to mitigate tomorrow."

Claire sighs, walks around the bed to lay down next to Audrey. "There," she grumbles. "Now would you please sleep? You need it a lot more than me." Audrey rolls on her side, eyes glittering in the pale light from the window. She has that look, the one she gets when she's on a case and has a lead. Like a dog with a bone. Claire has never had it turned on her, and she's not sure she likes it all that much.

"What you said about Jordan, is that true?" _And that, ladies and gentleman, is why she's a detective_. Claire almost laughs.

"Yes," she states shortly instead. Audrey sucks her lower lip, and if Claire is glad of one thing at the moment it's that Detective Audrey seems to override human, feeling Audrey. The last thing Audrey needs is to worry about Nathan and how dangerous Jordan can be. But then, it also means her attention is entirely focused on Claire and figuring out Jordan, and Claire doesn't like that at all, and why can't the woman just _sleep_?

"How is she not in jail? How did that even happen?" Claire closes her eyes, feels her teeth clenching so tightly her jaw aches, and tries very hard not to think. Wills Audrey to just stop talking (when had she _ever_ wanted that?). There's a moment of silence, then Audrey's hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry," she says softly. "Forget it, okay? Let's just sleep."

Claire nods tightly, focuses on breathing evenly. Audrey doesn't say another thing, but after a few minutes, Claire says quietly, "I recognized him, in the Herald. The man she tortured. I knew… I knew she hated him. When I confronted her about it, she…" She can still feel the pain, the most intense thing she's every experienced. Probably ever will. Can still _taste_ it, smell it, then her blood as she bit straight through her cheek. Can still hear her own screams, sounds she hadn't recognized.

"She grabbed my arm," she states steadily. "And she wouldn't let go until I promised not to tell anyone. The pain…" She hears a small gasp escape Audrey. "I hadn't seen her since, not until tonight."

"Oh my god," the other woman whispers. "Claire…" Breathing requires all her focus now. "But… you told us. In the house."

It makes sense, in retrospect. At the time the words had just tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them, leaving her horrified. "Somehow Jordan is a lot less scary with you around," she answers, forces a small smile, a breath. In, out. Audrey's quiet laugh makes it a little easier.

"Yeah, sometimes being an anti-trouble is useful," she agrees dryly.

"Also your gun." Audrey makes an agreeing noise, and they lay in silence for awhile. Claire stares at the ceiling, the walls, the various bizarre decorations that must belong to Duke. Looks anywhere but her own mind.

Eventually Audrey's soft voice breaks the silence, reassuring and dangerous all at once. "I'm still around," she states. Threatens. Promises. "And my gun. You can sleep, Claire."

Claire wonders if Audrey can ever _stop_ trying to fix people.

 

  
_so leave that click in my head_   
_and i will remember the words that you said_   
_you brought me out from the cold_   
_now how i long_   
_**how i long to grow old**_   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are love!


	4. and i will not tell the thoughts of hell that carried me home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Audrey. A house tried to kill us last night. Nathan is apparently working with a group of criminals, your therapist is sleeping in your room and you… you want to go to work. At 7 in the morning."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Spoilers:** Through 3.06 (Real Estate)
> 
>  **Author's Notes:** Written for my [](http://hc-bingo.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://hc-bingo.livejournal.com/)**hc_bingo** prompt "disappearing".
> 
> So this chapter got... long. Very long. So I decided to split it up, mainly so I could get part out today as I was planning to finish tonight but ELECTION.
> 
> This chapter features Audrey and Duke!
> 
> Song for this chapter is "[Holland Road](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_UDWCScrWeo)".

 

  
_**so i was lost** _

_so i hit my low_   
_little did i know that would not be the end_

 

For once, Audrey doesn’t dream.

 

Morning light wakes her, and she automatically reaches up to check for blood. None, mercifully, and her head no longer hurts with such intensity. Just a dull ache she’s grown accustomed to. And that could as well be from last night; for someone who doesn’t cry often, it usually leaves her, well, _sore_. Running and fighting, that she can handle just fine. But crying?

 

She glances at Claire, still sleeping like the dead. Audrey slips out of bed as quietly as possible, not having the heart to wake her. It’d been a long night for all of them. It takes her half an hour of scalding hot water to wash away all evidence of blood and grime, and by the time she’s done with her makeup and hair she decides she looks half-way decent. At least alive.

 

She almost runs into Duke, literally, on her way out the door. (Also almost screams, still jumpy from her kidnapping, and if that’d been her abductor he would’ve taken her all over again-)

 

“Audrey!” Duke is staring at her and she realizes there’s coffee all over his shirt, two slopping mugs in his hands and suddenly she’s laughing, close to hysterically. “I’m glad my pain is amusing to you,” Duke grumbles as Audrey tries to down on her grin. “Although, it is nice to see you smile. I just wish I didn’t have to burn myself to get you to do it.”

 

“Sorry,” she smirks. “Good morning, Duke. Thank you for the coffee.”

 

Duke just stares at her disbelievingly for a moment, then shakes his head. “You’re welcome. Can I please go…” He gestures at her door with dripping hands.

 

And suddenly Audrey is hesitant. Not that she doesn’t trust Duke, completely, but she’s not sure how Claire would feel waking up to him wandering around half-naked. “Claire’s sleeping,” she tells him. His eyebrows climb almost to his hair, and Audrey rolls her eyes. “Something about making sure I don’t bleed to death overnight.”

 

“Ah. Right. Wait, what?”

 

She sighs. “It’s… complicated. Look, I need to get to the station, okay? We can talk later.” That seems to be her new life motto.

 

Duke just stares at her. “Audrey. A house tried to kill us last night. Nathan is apparently working with a group of criminals, your therapist is sleeping in your room and you… you want to go to work. At 7 in the morning.” She flinches at his words ( _Nathan’s_ not _working with them, he_ can’t _be_ ), but forces another smile.

 

“Yup. I’ve been remembering things, as Lucy. I saw the Colorado Kid’s face, Duke. I think I can ID him, I just need to. Y’know. _Get to work_.” Duke opens and closes his mouth a few times, still holding the dripping mugs out like he’s waiting for them to… hell, it’s Haven, maybe he’s waiting for them to clean themselves.

 

Audrey rolls her eyes and turns to leave, but Duke stops her again. “Audrey, wait. You… you’re not dying, are you?”

 

She starts laughing again.

 

It actually takes a hand over her mouth to control the sounds, so much less mirthless this time around. Duke looks even less amused. “Audrey?” She’s not sure she’s ever heard him use an actual serious tone before, but this must be what it sounds like.

 

“Depends what you mean by dying, I guess,” she answers dryly, between giggles. “I am disappearing in a little over a month, does that count?”

 

“You know what I mean.”

 

She rubs her forehead tiredly. “I’m fine, Duke. Something about bursting walls in my brain when I remember these things about Lucy.”

 

Duke just _stares_. “Are you…” He sets the mugs down on the arm of one of her patio chairs, rubs a coffee-stained hand across his mouth. “Do you even hear yourself, Audrey? Your brains just… exploding, but that… that’s fine?”

 

“It’s not exploding,” she sighs, knowing she can’t talk herself out of this.

 

“Oh, right, of course. Just _bleeding_.” Audrey folds her arms. “Look, just come downstairs with me and have some coffee. Well, more coffee. And breakfast. Which I’m guessing you forgot about.” She has to smile at his rambling, just a little, because he’s right. “I’ll make waffles? On the house, come on.” He looks so much like a lost puppy, drowned in coffee, that she can’t help rolling her eyes and following him downstairs. She sits at the bar and nurses a cup of coffee while he bustles around cooking (and she has to admit, he’s a fabulous cook). And she knows she _should_ be hungry, even if her minor headache has left her more nauseous than anything else.

 

“So,” Duke’s voice startles her from a pleasant daze. “Are you planning to tell me why your brain is bleeding? Cause it’s kinda rude to throw that at a guy and then just walk away.” He glances up at her from the batter he’s stirring, a small smile on his face overwritten with concern.

 

Audrey sighs. “Really, Duke, I’m fine. Claire called it a “subdural hematoma”, something about repressed memories being blocked by a wall in my brain. And when I broke that wall…”

 

“You started passing out and getting nosebleeds.” She shrugs, nods. Duke pours the batter into the waffle maker, silently, then walks over to lean against the bar across from her. “Are they dangerous?” he asks quietly.

 

She can’t make herself look at him. “Duke…”

 

“Audrey.”

 

She takes a sip of coffee, swills it around her mouth before swallowing. Then answers, quietly, “Yes. If I keep pushing at it.”

 

Duke runs a hand across his mouth agitatedly. “So you’re gonna stop, right?” It’s not even a question.

 

Audrey runs a hand wearily through her hair, massaging her temple. “I don’t think it’s that simple,” she tells him. “Claire said that… some doors can’t be closed, once they’re open.”

 

Duke smiles at that. “I seem to recall you telling me that same thing, not so long ago.” Audrey blinks, then remembers the Rev. Remembers how she thought she’d lost Duke. “I think I came back alright.” (And he had, he definitely had.)

 

“Okay, that’s different,” She protests. “This is… science, Duke, not a morality test. The memories seem to be triggered by places and things – that necklace, or the beach, or the house. I can’t control it.”

 

“Like the Troubles,” Duke says quietly. “Not exactly science, Audrey.”

 

It’s adorable, how he simply refuses to stop trying to get her to fight. How he keeps coming up with various methods of reminding her that her fate can be avoided, that the Troubles can be beaten.

 

She wishes she could believe him.

 

The waffle timer goes off, and then they focus on food and coffee and the beautiful sunrise because anything else is too much, too close to the edge. She doesn’t think about the fact that she only has a limited number of sunrises left, a limited number of hours to spend with Duke, a finite number of his waffles she can eat and cups of coffee she can drink.

 

No, she laughs at the flowery shirt he changes into _(It’s all I have here, okay?)_ and enjoys the smell of the sea and the brisk fall air and for a moment, just a moment, lets herself wonder what it would be like if she could stay.

 

 

  
_and when i've hit the ground_   
_neither lost nor found_   
_if you'll believe in me_   
_i'll still believe_   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are love!


	5. your strength just makes me feel less strong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She’ll tell him. She’ll tell him _everything_ about Lucy, about James, about her dreams and her flashbacks and her bleeding brain. Because if he’s breaking people out of jail he’s already neck-deep in trouble, and she’s not ready to give up on that tiny, possessive voice in her head screaming that he’s _hers_ , he’s _always_ been hers and she’s always been his and if they can’t work this out there’s no point at all in finding James, in figuring out what happened to Lucy’s love because Audrey won’t _have_ a love to worry about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Spoilers:** Through 3.06 (Real Estate)
> 
>  **Author's Notes:** I'm pretty damn proud of this chapter, which is something I don't say a lot. But I really, _really_ love writing Audrey's brain, she's so much fun. I also kind of feel like I need to apologize for the excessive angst here and especially the ending but. Y'know. Canon. Writing this fic has been almost as painful as watching this season.
> 
> I've also had a few people tell me that labelling this Nathan/Audrey was deceiving. This IS still most definitely a Nathan/Audrey fic. (I'm pretty sure I can't write anything that isn't ultimately because they are the most beautifully tragically star-crossed pair it's just painful sometimes.) But it's also a story about the other people in Audrey's life, because she is a lot more than just Nathan's love interest, because the other characters are really interesting (at least to me) and I wanted to write about them and it's my fic so I'll do what I want to, dammit. Part of the reason their relationship is painfully drawn out here is because that's exactly how it's been this season, and I have this weird thing where I try to keep my characters... in character. So if you just want a one-shot of Nathan and Audrey hooking up, this isn't it. 
> 
> Sorry for the rant, I just get annoyed when people aren't interested in the depth these characters have because this show is fucking awesome, guys, and the actors are so incredible and it just seems a shame to reduce it to nothing but WHEN WILL THEY MAKE OUT ALREADY (okay, I definitely type this line frequently in my haven rants, but I try to on occasionally be a mature adult about things).
> 
> ANYWAY. If I still have any readers, this chapter features Audrey, Nathan and Claire. Song is "[Lover's Eyes](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xWNq89joPrI)".

 

  
_love was kind, for a time_   
_now just aches and it makes me blind_   
_were we too young?_   
_and heads too strong?_   
_to bear the weight of these lover's eyes_

 

James Cogan. That’s the Colorado Kid’s name – James Cogan. The man she’d loved, or Lucy had loved. It somehow only feels like half a victory; _someone_ in this town had to know this already. Someone else had to have seen his face back in 1983, talked to him, _known_ him.  Granted, James wasn’t here that long – the missing persons file says he disappeared from Colorado May 3 rd, and he’d died May 22rd. But still, 20 days can be a long time.

 

(She almost laughs at herself for thinking that.)

 

There _must’ve_ been other pictures of him. Other reports. An autopsy, a police investigation, _something_. Hell, _someone_ had put him in the coffin before he’d mysteriously disappeared – or maybe he’d never gone in the coffin at all. Maybe Lucy had faked his death, to keep him safe.

 

She always seems to be playing with death just to keep the people she loves alive.

 

But Audrey just can’t believe that _everyone_ who had ever met James had been “erased” like Duke and Vanessa. People are _still_ hiding things from her, running her around in circles. Manipulating her. It’s enough that she feels a headache come raging back, growls in frustration as she prints out the missing persons page.

 

The only thing about this she enjoys is that it seems to piss people off, every time she discovers something new. Maybe even scares them. Whoever had given her the memories of an FBI agent clearly hadn’t thought it through. Maybe Lucy and Sarah hadn’t asked so many questions, or hadn’t had access to the police resources that Audrey does. Either way, at this point Audrey thinks she might be pushing things about this case just to annoy everyone.

 

Except Nathan.

 

Especially Nathan.

 

God, why won’t he just give it _up?_

 

She almost runs into Claire on the way to the printer, looking a little pale but not angry enough for Duke to have done something stupid. “Did you tell Duke to be nice to me?” the therapist asks by way of greeting. “Because he was like, overly nice. To the point of creepy.” Audrey can’t suppress a smile.

 

“Did he make you waffles?” she asks innocently. “He only makes waffles for people he likes.”

 

Claire raises an eyebrow. “Audrey Parker, are you trying to set me up with your… your _landlord?_ ”

 

Audrey laughs. (She’d forgotten she knew how to do that). “No, trust me, Duke has this rule about socializing with cops, and given that you work with us...”

 

Claire looks mildly offended. “I also don’t think he’s a fan of the therapy thing…”

 

“No, no I don’t think he would be.” The printer finally finishes, and Audrey pulls out the paper with James’s face. Claire frowns.

 

“Is that…”

 

“The Colorado Kid was in that room with Lucy,” Audrey answers her unspoken question. “I heard his first name, I matched it with a facial composite, and I got this.”

 

Claire takes the paper, eyes wide with awe. “James Cogan. That’s his name.” Audrey feels her smile widen – she’d done it. She’d _found_ him. Finally, something good, some answers. Granted, this had only provided a thousand more, but it’s a solid lead.

 

And then Nathan walks through the door and all of that, every bit of happiness, it all drains in an instant. Claire turns as Audrey’s smile drops, and Nathan – Nathan just _glares_ like Audrey is the cause of every one of his problems, glances away rapidly like he can’t stand to even see her. It’s the way he’d looked at her in the Holloway house, as though he’s wishing she’d already disappeared.

 

Fuck, but that _hurts_.

 

It’s not like she doesn’t deserve it; she _had_ been the one to push him away, after all. Although his face that night she’d told him to stop protecting her – almost crying as he practically begged her to talk to him – that had hurt more than anything in her life. She’d been _so close_ to taking it all back, to begging him to take her home and hold her and kiss her and touch her and make her forget all of this, make her remember that underneath this foreign skin she’s still _Audrey_ , she still has some part of her that’s _her_ , not Haven. Not whatever _thing_ this town has made her.

 

But letting him get closer, letting him love her (letting herself love him, maybe) – it would make her disappearing a thousand times worse. It would make him do stupid things to protect her, stupid things like James had probably done for Lucy, stupid things that had gotten the Colorado Kid killed. That could easily get _Nathan_ killed, especially given his I-can’t-feel-it Superman complex that has always driven her crazy.

 

She’d wanted him to pull back. She’d wanted him to stop caring so much. She just hadn’t expected it to _hurt_ like this. She hadn’t expected him to continue doing stupid things while not caring about her at the same time because that – that was like the worst of both worlds. If he’s going to throw away his life and his career over her (or what he’d _said_ was for her, but she really has no idea anymore and isn’t sure that he does either) then she might as well get to love him for it. But no, instead they just fight and argue and hurt each other over and over, instead he runs to Jordan because she _understands_ what it means to be Troubled, because she’s the exact opposite of Audrey, because she and Nathan are practically designed for each other and it’s so painful to admit that Audrey wants to bang her head against the wall.

 

Instead she grabs the paper back from Claire, mutters, “Excuse me,” and stalks after Nathan, feeling Claire’s eyes on her the whole time.

 

She’ll tell him. She’ll tell him _everything_ about Lucy, about James, about her dreams and her flashbacks and her bleeding brain. Because if he’s breaking people out of jail he’s already neck-deep in trouble, and she’s not ready to give up on that tiny, possessive voice in her head screaming that he’s _hers_ , he’s _always_ been hers and she’s always been his and if they can’t work this out there’s no point at all in finding James, in figuring out what happened to Lucy’s love because Audrey won’t _have_ a love to worry about.

 

But this is Haven, and nothing ever goes according to plan.

 

She doesn’t know why she starts on the offensive, why she lashes out about all the stupid decisions he’s made recently (because she’s made quite a few of her own, in all honesty, and they should really just stop judging each other). But then he’s defensive, and then Jordan comes up and Audrey’s brain just snaps because the woman is dangerous and _cruel_ , because Audrey knows what she did to Claire, because _Nathan_ knows that she’d tortured a man for three days and he’s _still defending her_.

 

And worst of all, he trusts her.

 

_You are the one person I can absolutely trust._

 

That’s enough to break her. Shut her down. _From now on, Nathan, it’s just you and me_. _(Just you and me just became you, me and… them)_.

 

Well isn’t that the damned truth.

 

She storms out of Nathan’s office, clutching the missing persons sheet so tightly she tears it, slamming her office door so violently the glass shudders. She kicks her trash can for good measure, then her desk, sits down in her chair so hard it groans. For a good minute she just hovers there, quietly contemplating all the various ways she could murder Jordan, all the ways she could painfully smash some sense in Nathan Wuornos’s skull.

 

 _She’s like me_. Audrey isn’t like him. _(Except she is, they’re both so isolated, so lonely…)_ She’s not like him at all, not in the ways that matter, and while it’d never seemed important before suddenly it’s everything. Suddenly she’s not enough, she can never be to him what Jordan is. She can never share that bond. Because Nathan – Nathan wants someone to _fix_. To save. And Audrey doesn’t need fixing or saving, doesn’t _want_ it. _(Except she does, she does.)_

 

“Audrey.” She jumps about a foot, head snapping up so fast her neck cracks. She hadn’t even heard the door open.

 

“I am really, really not in the mood, Claire,” she growls, smoothing out the missing persons paper and turning to her computer.

 

Claire actually smiles a little. “That’s generally the best time to talk,” she drawls, leaning back against the door. Audrey just glares at her for a moment, then pulls up James Cogan’s record. “Audrey, what-”

 

“I’m not crying over Nathan Wuornos anymore,” Audrey snaps, not lifting her gaze from the computer screen.

 

Claire’s eyebrows raise about two inches. “Okay, I can do direct.”

 

Audrey hardly hears her. “I’m done. I’m done caring, I’m done worrying, I’m done trying to decipher whatever the fuck is going on in his little brain. I’m just… I’m _done_.”

 

Claire sighs, walking over to Audrey’s desk. “Okay, I’m gonna play the ruthless therapist here and tell you that trying to just forget about this, about him… it’s not going to work.”

 

And Audrey has suddenly, _absolutely_ had enough. “No, you know what? Everyone, _everyone_ in this town seems to be an expert on forgetting _me_ , every 27 years. I’m around for a few months and then I just… I disappear. And _no one_ talks about me, not even to myself when I reappear. God, not even _Duke_. So I think it’s time _I_ get to forget.” Okay, so she’s probably being a little over-dramatic, but _god_ is she sick of the people in this town lying and manipulating and covering everything up, of spinning her in circles and then dangling clues at her she’s too dizzy and distracted to grasp.

 

“Audrey-”

 

“You need to leave.” There’s the briefest flash of hurt on Claire’s face, so fast that Audrey wouldn’t have seen it if she wasn’t trained to notice tells like that. It makes her feel unbearably guilty – why does she _do_ this? Why does she push everyone away?

 

“No.” Claire says it instantly and so decisively that Audrey blinks. “That may work on Nathan, but it’s not gonna work on me.”

 

Audrey just puts her head in her hands.

 

She hears a chair scrape on the floor as Claire sits across from her. “Look, I can’t imagine the stress you’re under right now,” she admits. “Or how… how maddeningly frustrated you must be with this town. But what you just said, that everyone is trying to hurt you – it’s not true, Audrey. Nathan is doing everything he can to help you, even when to two of you can’t even be in the same room.”

 

“By breaking the law and hooking up with a psychopath?” Audrey snaps, lifting her head. She doesn’t even want to think about Nathan, let alone about how he really has her best interests at heart or how he _understands_ Jordan because if she thinks about that much longer she might really just snap.

 

Claire sighs, and she suddenly looks years older. “It’s not the way I would’ve suggested,” she concedes. “But… Audrey, you didn’t give him much of a choice. You wouldn’t talk to him, you wouldn’t let him help, and this was the only way he saw to get somewhere without your input.”

 

“I didn’t want him doing this at all!” Why is the man so _stubborn_? Why won’t he just let it alone?

 

Claire says softly, “That’s not your choice. He’s a grown man, Audrey. He knows the risks. You can’t make his decisions for him, no matter how much you want to.”

 

That actually leaves Audrey shocked. Speechless. Because… because that hadn’t even occurred to her, not remotely. Because Nathan can’t _fully_ understand the danger he’s in, not when _she_ can’t. Just random scraps of memory and feelings she gets surrounding the Colorado Kid, surrounding _love_.

 

“But…” Her voice stutters and dies and she knows Claire is right. Completely. “God, I fucked this up,” she mutters. “I just… I don’t know what’s happening to me, or what… what I am. How can he know the risks if _I_ don’t? All I know is that people close to… to me or Lucy or whoever I am, they end up hurt. Dead. And if that happened to Nathan…” She chokes off, images of Nathan dead on the ground with a stake in his stomach flashing too-real in her mind.

 

“He knows all of that,” Claire reminds her. “The only things he doesn’t know are the things you haven’t told him recently. About Lucy’s memories, about James.”

 

That brings the anger surging back. “I _wanted_ to tell him,” she snaps. “I went in there to tell him I found the Colorado Kid, and we just fought about Jordan instead. I don’t…” Audrey swallows, forcing down the lump in her throat that comes every time she thinks of that pair. Of Nathan taking Jordan’s hand, carrying Jordan down the hall, leaving Audrey alone and bleeding to run off after _Jordan_. “I don’t want to ruin that for him too,” she finally says softly, when she can keep her voice steady. “I want him to… to have someone, when I’m gone. I don’t want him to be alone again.”

 

“Audrey.” Claire touches her hand and Audrey finally looks at her. “You’re assuming things for him, and making decisions for him. You need to _talk_ to him. About _all_ of this. The worst that can happen is he’ll confirm what you just said, he’ll say it’s too dangerous to be around you and he’d rather be with someone who will definitely still be here in a few months.”

 

Audrey flinches back, feels her eyes flood with tears despite her earlier promise to never cry again over fucking Nathan Wuornos. “But we both know that won’t happen,” Claire continues gently. “He’s already proven he’s willing to do just about anything for you, Audrey. So just lay it all out on the table. Tell him why you’ve been pushing him away, tell him why you don’t think he wants to be with you. Honey, I promise you, he’s not gonna turn you away. He’ll choose you, every time.”

 

“But he didn’t.” Her voice is tiny and childlike and she wants to kick herself.

 

Claire sighs, rubs the heels of her palms against her eyes. Audrey feels it too, the sudden exhaustion. The weight of half the world pulling her down. “Believe me, I almost staked him for that last night,” Claire concedes wryly. “He’s confused, Audrey. He’s scared. He’s afraid he’s going to lose you soon, and he knows you must be terrified too, but you won’t talk to him about it. And trust me, that’s one of the most frustrating things to experience.” She raises an eyebrow at Audrey, who winces. Right. That. _I have no idea where your head’s at…_

 

“So it makes sense that he’s lashing out, defensive,” Claire continues. “He’s desperate, and he doesn’t know what else to do to help you. Every idea he’s had, you’ve shot down. Every sacrifice he’s made, you’ve told him it’s not worth it. That…” She shakes her head. “That has to be draining.”

 

And then Audrey cries over Nathan Wuornos again, because it’s _all her fault_. Roland Holloway had been right, in some sick sense. It’s _always_ her fault, because the way she whirls into and out of this town, of people’s _lives_ – it can’t do anything but cause pain. And she always has to _push_ , at everything, insinuate herself into as many corners of Haven as possible until she realizes the harm that will cause and by then it’s too late, it’s far too late.

 

Why would _anyone_ let this happen, again and again and again?

 

She realizes vaguely that Claire is saying her name, over and over, and snaps her eyes dully to meet the therapist’s. She half-expects to see loathing and disgust there, is surprised to find only concern.

 

“This is all my fault,” is the only thing she can think to whisper.

 

Claire’s face softens. “No, Audrey, that’s not what I meant. Nathan has done quite a few stupid things all on his own.” Audrey can’t help smiling a little at that. “I’m not trying to defend his actions, alright? All I’m saying is you’re both confused and scared and hurting right now, and if you could just actually _talk_ for five minutes instead of fighting or avoiding each other, I think you’d be surprised how far you’ll get.”

 

Audrey wipes absently at her cheeks. She’s entirely sick of crying. “You’re not going to let up on this until I just do it, are you?” she asks sourly. Claire smiles, that excited-therapist look on her face that Audrey knows she’s supposed to hate.

 

“Nope.” Audrey’s pretty sure Claire is _smirking_. “You might as well just try it.”

 

Audrey rolls her eyes, throws up her hands. “Fine,” she sighs. “Just don’t… no eavesdropping. I’m armed.”

 

She goes to find Nathan and he’s gone.

 

 

  
_but do not ask the price i pay_   
_i must live with my quiet rage_   
_tame the ghosts in my head_   
_that run wild and wish me dead_

__  


_(and i'll walk slow, i'll walk slow, take my hand, help me on my way)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are love!


	6. constant reminder of where i can find her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter Summary:** This, finding a way to save Audrey – it’s the only thing he knows how to do anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Spoilers:** Through 3.06 (Real Estate)
> 
>  **Author's Notes:** This chapter was really hard to write, I literally spent half the time ranting "WHY IS NATHAN MAKING ME WRITE THESE THINGS" to my friends and whining and complaining. Anyway, this is mainly Nathan musing and a little Nathan/Jordan. Because, well. It happened in the ep, and for some reason I feel like I have to keep it canon at least through the ending. After watching both Magic Hour parts I'm thinking this is going to end up AU after this because I cannot wait any longer to smack their faces together.
> 
> Song for this chapter is "[Reminder](www.youtube.com/watch?v=RY7lyXDRO7s)".

 

  
_don't let me darken your door_   
_it's not what i came here for_

_and I won't hear you cry when i'm gone_   
_i won't know if i'm doing you wrong_   
_i never know if i'm doing you wrong_

xxx

There are times when Nathan wonders if his brain is attached to his mouth at all. Or Audrey’s, for that matter.

 

He hadn’t wanted to fight, not again. Not in the wake of everything, not when she only has a month left and this is by far the stupidest way they could possibly be spending it. When she follows him into his office he’s ready to talk, to force _her_ to talk, to figure out what the hell has been going on because if she’s getting brain hemorrhages and he’s not noticing then something is definitely wrong.

 

But she’s on him before he can get a word out, all on the offensive, all accusations and declarations of his stupidity and wasn’t it only a few weeks ago that he was lecturing her on the same thing? When she was the one on the verge of getting fired or arrested and she’d been the one who didn’t care, the one pushing and pushing because it was the only thing she knew how to do?

 

Well this, finding a way to save Audrey – it’s the only thing _he_ knows how to do anymore.

 

So he keeps telling himself, every time he pushes further. Every time he meets with Jordan and tries to convince himself he doesn’t feel it, the heat smoldering low in his gut, the tightness that makes it hard to breathe or think. (It’s lust, a small part of him knows. Apparently a great deal less dangerous than love, although perhaps just as deadly.) How else is he supposed to react when Jordan can feel him and only him, when the look on her face is one of such pure bliss and longing and ecstatic pleasure that shocks straight through him, touches every nerve ending that cannot feel a thing?

 

(How else? Like Audrey.) Like Audrey, who doesn’t abuse her touch. Who uses it so rarely, as a reminder, as a _promise_. It’s how he knows, he _knows_ that it’s more for them, he knows that if it meant nothing she’d touch him as much as he touches Jordan, she’d use her… ability to manipulate him the way he’s doing so shamelessly. For Audrey. All for Audrey.

 

So he tells himself.

 

And then there’s the other part of him, the part that comes every twenty-seven years, the part that grows slowly day by day. The part that’s detached and reckless and masochistic, the part that Audrey had somehow subdued. ( _Maybe someday you’ll fix me…)_ Because he can’t stand the look on her face when he holds a flame to his skin or slices his hand with a knife or stabs himself with a plastic fork, because she makes him remember that he’s not entirely emotionally dysfunctional just because he can’t feel a thing.

 

And every day she pushes him away, that part of him comes creeping back a little more. (Occasionally he wishes Jordan’s touch would hurt him, just a little, just because he’d rather feel that pain than this utter _numbness_.) _Oblivious or cruel_ , Claire had asked, _accused_ , but how could he be either when he hadn’t wanted this, he hadn’t wanted any of this?

 

How could he be anything but if his partner had been bleeding and he hadn’t noticed a thing?

 

The entire situation makes him nauseous, with half a mind to barge after Audrey and scream sense into her and the other half to give in, to let her push him away, to stop investigating where she obviously doesn’t want him to. (He just doesn’t think he knows how to do that.)

 

When Jordan calls it’s the biggest relief he’s felt all day, maybe all week. Because his feelings for her are carnal and selfish and right now he needs that, needs to remember that he’s his own person, he’s not always Audrey’s. He’s _not_.

 

Still, all he can think about when he’s touching Jordan is how badly he wishes she were Audrey, how much he’d give for Audrey to touch him like this. To make him _feel_ , not her skin or her lips but his _soul_ , his humanity, the part he’s afraid he’s rapidly loosing grip on. He feels ungrounded, untethered, and right now Jordan is all he has to hold on to.

 

But he can dream.

 

It’s the tears on Jordan’s cheeks that break him, send a stab of guilt straight through him. Because really, he’s not oblivious. He is cruel. Claire just had the wrong woman.

 

Because this isn’t a lie, but it’s not the truth. Because whatever he feels for Jordan, she will never be Audrey. Even if the Troubles end and he can feel her touch, she’ll still never be close to what Audrey is to him. So this isn’t fair, not to Jordan, not to Nathan, not to Audrey. But he can’t stop, because he needs to find a way to help Audrey and this is the only place he has left to look. Because _everyone says that my curse is that my touch hurts people, but that’s not it._ Because he knows what that’s like, and he knows he can give her some comfort.

 

(Because maybe, when all of this is over, and Audrey is gone…)

 

So he touches her face, brushes at her tears. “I know how it feels,” he murmurs. Not feeling her skin, not her. “Believe me, I know how… how much just one touch can mean.” She turns into his hand, the look of sheer bliss sending heat roiling in his gut. Because he _knows_. He could map out every time Audrey has ever touched him, down to the minute. And every minute in between, that he’s spent waiting for her next brush of skin. Wishing he had the courage to ask for more.

 

But he can give that to Jordan, and whatever else this is, that has to be worth it.

 

So he’s kissing her, stroking every bare patch of skin, running his fingers through her hair. And he can _imagine_ how it must feel, how ecstatically electric, so strong in his mind he can almost believe it’s his own sensations.

 

And in the middle of all that, he finds himself wondering how far he’ll go. How far he _should_ go, how far Jordan would want him to. If she knew the truth. The _full_ truth. (Does he even know that anymore?)

 

Does he know _her_ truth?

 

That makes him pull back, just a little, then rest his forehead against hers. “Can I ask you something?” Jordan smiles.

 

“Anything you want, Wuornos.”

 

He plays with the end of her hair, suddenly hesitant. Suddenly not sure if he really wants these answers. But he’s come too far now to stop. “Back at the Holloway house, why did you have a gun pointed at Claire?”

 

Jordan stills, then pulls back from him, eyes turned icy. “I thought she was going to kill me,” she bites. “And the gun just… appeared.” Hell, they’d all thought everyone was trying to kill them. But still…

 

“Why would she wanna kill you?” he asks. Jordan makes a frustrated noise, low in her throat, and looks away.

 

“Why did any of us do anything in that house?” she asks angrily. “We didn’t part on the best of terms, okay? And that house was just…” She shakes her head, glances at him sharply. “Whatever you really want to ask me, Nathan, just ask.”

 

He swallows. “Claire… Claire told me something. About you.” Jordan pales. “She said you tortured a man, with your touch. For three days. Said it’s why you’re not her patient anymore.”

 

It’s like something in Jordan’s eyes just _dies_. Her whole face smooths over, expressionless and terrifying. Suddenly, Nathan regrets saying anything. Really, really regrets it.

 

“Jordan…” She doesn’t respond, doesn’t even seem to be looking at him, although her eyes rest on his face. She just sits there, perfectly still, until he reaches out hesitantly to touch her arm. And then she reacts so fast it doesn’t seem human, twisting his wrist so far he’s afraid she’ll break it. “What the hell!” he yelps, more from the awkward position than anything else. Anyone else would be writhing on the ground in pain. Obviously.

 

Jordan blinks down at him, growls, “Don’t touch me”, and releases him. He slumps gracelessly to the ground, and by the time he regains his footing she’s halfway to her car.

 

xxx

  
_so watch the world tear us apart_   
_a stoic mind and a bleeding heart_   
_you never see my bleeding heart_   


_and your light’s always shining on_   
_and i've been travelling oh so long_

_(without her i'm lost, oh my love don't fade away)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are love! =)
> 
> I have quite a bit written after this, although I'm debating posting it. It goes a lot more into Jordan (because I find her character fascinating, I'm really loving the "not everything is black and white" aspect of this season). I'm not sure anyone would actually want to read it, though, so I may just write it for myself and post the ending (which will be Nathan/Audrey) here when I get there. If Nathan ever decides to cooperate.( He's under threat of no more pancakes ever from my muse right now...)


	7. close my eyes for a while

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world fades to black and white and red, blinding red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Notes:** Super short chapter, which will make more sense with the following one. Things will be more AU from here on out, with a lot of my speculations on Jordan. (And please, please don't ask me for more Nathan/Audrey. They're being pissy enough with my muse as it is ;) )
> 
> Song for this chapter is "[I Gave You All](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dyU5OAAOOBE)".

  
_rip the earth in two with your mind_   
_seal the urge which ensues with brass wires_   
_i never meant you any harm_   
_but your tears feel warm as they fall on my forearm_   


 

Pain. Anger. Rage. _Hatred_.

 

It’s all she can remember.

 

The world fades to black and white and red, blinding red. Crimson everywhere, tinting everything. Everyone. Pulsing through her veins, expanding to fill her body, so quickly and violently she wonders that she doesn’t explode.

 

She doesn’t know where she is, or where she’s going. What she’s doing, why her gloves are itching to come off and everything is red red red.

 

Control. She has none, only blinding hatred and anger and pain.

 

And red.

  
_but you rip it from my hands and you swear it's all gone_   
_and you rip out all i have just to say that you've won_   


_**well now you've won** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are love! =)


	8. black and all blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The shadow moves into the light, smiling. That predatory smile that shakes Claire down to her core, and in a town like Haven not much scares her at all. Jordan terrifies her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** Violence, mention of past rape and assault  
>  **Chapter Summary:** The shadow moves into the light, smiling. That predatory smile that shakes Claire down to her core, and in a town like Haven not much scares her at all. Jordan terrifies her.
> 
>  **Author's Notes:** Um, this got dark? I don't even know. I made up lots of backstory here, and apparently I'm incapable of writing anything non-angsty. And I read into lines and expressions way too much. Yay!
> 
> Song for this chapter is "[Ghosts That We Knew](www.youtube.com/watch?v=D6-EUSvJchI)".

  
_you saw my pain, washed out in the rain_   
_broken glass, saw the blood run from my veins_   
_but you saw no fault, no cracks in my heart_   
_and you kneel beside my hope torn apart_   


 

Claire had left the station under threat of painful consequences from Audrey if she mentioned Nathan’s name again, and Claire had decided to just give it up for the moment. Maybe Nathan was just off on a call. Maybe.

 

She knows she shouldn’t judge the man, but the way he’d so blatantly ignored what she’d told him about Jordan still sits heavy in her stomach, part anger and part worry at how he can just _not care_. She knows his condition must make him feel isolated, detached from the world; she just hadn’t realized quite how much Audrey had drawn him out of that shell. Not just with touch, with _friendship_. At this point Claire just wants to get them as _partners_ again, knows they both need their friendship a lot more than either of them will admit. She wishes she could do a couples session with them, almost laughs at herself for even thinking it. Getting just Audrey to talk to her was hard enough.

 

She’s a little surprised when Audrey calls, then realizes the cop needs someone to bounce ideas off of. Audrey does all her brainstorming out loud (she talks and questions almost nonstop, about everything but herself, and it’s enough to drive Claire crazy). They’re looking at the records of Cogan’s parents when Claire hears the door creak and freezes; she’d definitely locked that. Five or six times, actually.

 

A shadow enters, all black but for bits of skin here and there, and she hears Audrey say her name a few times through the speaker, then ask if she’s okay, then yell her name, but Claire can’t respond.

 

“Jordan,” she chokes. The shadow moves into the light, smiling. That predatory smile that shakes Claire down to her core, and in a town like Haven not much scares her at all.

 

Jordan terrifies her.

 

“Drop the phone,” the shadow orders. Claire does, prays it doesn’t turn off. That Audrey will come, preferably with an entire squad of policeman. Maybe a SWAT team or two.

 

Claire stands, slowly, hands raised, and pulls out her calmest tone. “Jordan,” she states again. Her voice squeaks a little. “Why are you here?” Jordan smiles, pulling off her gloves finger by finger. Stalks her like prey.

 

“You told them,” she murmurs, low and dangerous. “Nathan and Parker, in that goddamn house. You _told_ them.”

 

Cold dread worms through her stomach. “We were all scared and on edge,” she explains, as soothingly as she can. “Holloway was manipulating us, Jordan. Nothing that happened in there has to leave that house.”

 

“Except it did.” Panic. Claire forces it down, refuses to let Jordan see fear in her eyes, takes deep, steady breaths. Jordan continues, “Nathan asked me about it, doc. Asked what happened, if you were telling the truth, y’know. _Police_ questions.”

 

“Nathan didn’t-”

 

Jordan lunges so fast Claire hardly has time to move back, slamming into the wall. “Nathan is the _chief of police_ ,” the woman hisses. Her face is inches from Claire’s, that deadly skin _so fucking close_ that Claire can’t breathe, can’t think.

 

“H-he didn’t believe me,” Claire whispers. “He said I didn’t know you...” Jordan inches forward and Claire squeezes her eyes shut, a tiny whimper escaping her throat. So much for no fear.

 

Jordan laughs softly, deep in her throat, and backs off. “So scared of me, doc,” she drawls. Claire opens her eyes to see the other woman shaking her head, dark hair swishing softly as she smiles again. “You know how much I hate this.” Jordan holds up her bare hands, gesturing at nothing. “You know I don’t enjoy causing people pain.” _Do I, though?_ “So why are you so scared of me?”

 

“Are you serious?” The words slip out before Claire can stop them, anger burning off some of the fear. “You do remember our last session, Jordan, right?” Jordan just watches her, head cocked. Well, Claire certainly isn’t going to remind her. “Why are you here?” she asks instead, cold and steady. In control.

 

Jordan touches her fingertips together, takes a step forward. Her eyes are tinted the same red they had been the last time, a glow Claire had always thought she’d imagined. She flinches unconsciously. “I want you to tell Nathan you lied,” Jordan says softly. “I want you to tell him it was the house, it made you lie to try to split us up.”

 

“No.” _Goddammit_. Why can’t she control her damn mouth? Jordan takes a step closer. “I’m not lying for you again, Jordan.” Another step, and Claire’s throat is so tight she can hardly gasp in any air.

 

And then Jordan’s right in front of her, brushes her wrist and Claire’s brain _explodes_ , her legs turn to jelly and she’s a collapsed heap on the floor. “Do I really need to convince you again?” Jordan purrs above her. Claire hears her own voice beg, “Please…”, can’t believe the word came from her own mouth.

 

Jordan grabs her hair, jerks her head back. “Everything I did to that bastard, he deserved,” Jordan snarls, every slight brush of her fingers against Claire’s scalp _screaming_ pain. “He fucking _raped_ me, and he was going to get away with it, just walk away.” Claire is sobbing now, thinks Jordan might be as well as she grips the back of Claire’s neck. “He deserved-”

 

The door caves in then, a loud _crack_ accompanied by running feet and Claire has never loved the sound more in her life. She hears a gun cock as Jordan whirls, jerking Claire around with her and the world is white, the pain too much.

 

Audrey’s voice is a beacon. “LET HER GO,” the cop shouts, and Claire thinks she hears Nathan echo the words but can’t think clearly over the screaming in her head. “Jordan, you have five seconds or I _will_ shoot you.”

 

And the pain stops, it’s sudden absence almost as excruciating as she slumps to the ground. She hears running footsteps, then someone kneeling beside her. She instinctively (pitifully) jerks away, then hears Audrey’s voice. “Hey, easy, Claire, it’s me. It’s Audrey.” Strange noises fill her ears, strangled sobbing gasps that she realizes are coming from her mouth. Audrey carefully, gently, takes her shoulders while Claire tries not to flinch, because it’s _Audrey_ and she wouldn’t hurt her, Audrey would never hurt her, but jeezus _fuck_ it _hurts_.

 

“Shh,” she hears the cop whisper, pulling her upright slowly. “Shh, Claire, it’s okay, I’ve got you.” Audrey’s arm is strong around her, supporting her pathetically limp muscles, holding her protectively as Claire looks around frantically for Jordan. She needs to get out, get _away_.

 

She manages to gasp, “Where…” Audrey’s hand tightens on her arm, and Claire’s eyes finally focus.

 

On Nathan, his arms around a sobbing Jordan.

 

It’s too much.

 

Somehow she pulls herself to her feet, using her chair as leverage. She hears Audrey talking to her but can’t understand a thing she’s saying, just knows she needs to get _out_.

 

She makes it one step before collapsing, Audrey’s arm around her waist the only thing keeping her upright. “Need out,” she chokes out. Audrey nods tightly, guides her slowly toward the door. Claire regains more control with each passing moment, and by the time they’re outside she manages to pull away on her own to collapse in the grass, retching.

 

Hands pull her hair back, run along her back, and the only thing she can notice is that they don’t cause pain so she really doesn’t give a fuck. Her brain tells her to be glad they went out the back door, because somehow the town seeing their therapist having a breakdown on the front lawn doesn’t seem like the best idea.

 

Her body calms, eventually, and then she’s just gasping, shaking, trying desperately to regain control. Audrey pulls her upright again, wipes her mouth gently before wrapping both arms around her. And that protective hold is enough to break Claire down all over again, to bring the memory of pain flooding back through her so savagely it’s all she can do to stay conscious, bury her face in Audrey’s shoulder and try to just _breathe_.

 

“Breathe,” she hears Audrey echo, her fingers tangled in Claire’s hair. “Just breathe, Claire, it’s over. Shh, it’s over, you’re safe. She’ll never touch you again.” Audrey continues talking to her, voice soothing and gentle and the only thing keeping her remotely sane. Claire’s fingers claw at Audrey’s jacket, needing something to _ground_ on, and Audrey’s soft “ _breath”_ is the only thing keeping Claire from tearing at her own skin.

 

Minutes pass, or hours, or days. Claire doesn’t know if she’d even have noticed darkness. Eventually the spasms of residual pain receded, then the phantom tremors that she could _swear_ were real, swears she can _feel_ Jordan’s fingers on her although Audrey tells her again and again and again that they’re alone, she’s safe. Safe.

 

The sun is significantly lower when Claire finally raises her head, shivering in the cold. She reaches up to wipe angrily at her eyes, brushing off tears and probably makeup, and she might be embarrassed if she wasn’t so _terrified_.

 

“It’s okay,” Audrey says, softly, reading her mind. “How you feeling?”

 

Claire brushes at her face again, everything _aching_. “Fantastic,” she chokes. Her throat hurts, probably from the screaming she doesn’t really remember. “ _Fuck_.”

 

Audrey smiles, or her lips move into a vague resemblance of one. But her eyes are dark, angry, _dangerous_. Claire shivers again, starting to grasp the magnitude of the situation she’d stumbled into with the woman. She wonders absently if Audrey keeps the emotions of past lives as well, if her own feelings are augmented by those of Lucy and Sarah and all the rest. If the combined suite of emotions intensifies with every memory she unleashes.

 

Claire understands, now, the way people treat her. The way she treats herself, even if she’s not aware of it. Why the Crockers want to kill her, why the Rev had hated her. They don’t see her as a person, they see her as a tool, a vessel with one purpose. A _weapon_.

 

It makes Claire horribly sad, whatever part of her can spare emotion from utter terror.

 

And then it’s all fear again.

 

“Hey.” Audrey grips her shoulder reassuringly. “She’s gone, okay?”

 

Claire nods slightly, trying to breathe evenly, trying to convince herself it’s true. But her face must read all of her anxiety (and really it shouldn’t, she’s a fucking _therapist_ ), because Audrey wraps a protective arm around her shoulders again, pulling Claire’s head to her shoulder. And Claire gives in, because she still can’t _breathe_ and Audrey is the only one who has ever made Jordan seem any less threatening.

 

 _People like you and me, we need therapy. We take on everybody else’s crazy, pretty soon we have no room left for our own…_ _Claire is pretty sure she’s filled her quota at this point. And e_ ven when she’s falling apart herself, Audrey takes care of those around her. It’s why she’s so incredible, why Claire was so drawn to her.

 

“We need to get you to a doctor,” Audrey murmurs after awhile, absently running her fingers along Claire’s back.

 

“I am a doctor, remember?” The words fall heavy, even to her ears. “I’ll be fine, Audrey. It was…” _painpainpainPAINPROMISEipromiseipromise_

 

“Claire!” She blinks, and Audrey’s hands are cupping her face, eyes boring into hers. “Claire, look at me. Talk to me.”

 

Claire swallows. “Sorry,” she mutters. “It was… longer, last time, okay? And I was fine, I just… I just need to sleep and I’ll be fine.”

 

Audrey sighs. “I guess I don’t really have any right to argue with that logic,” she concedes wryly. Claire raises an eyebrow in agreement. “Okay, think you can get up? I’ll take you home.”

 

There goes the fear again, so many thoughts and possibilities and _stop_. Breathe. In. Out. Again. Again.

 

When she opens her eyes again Audrey is watching her with concern. “I’m not leaving you alone,” the cop murmurs. “Relax.”

 

Wow. When had _Audrey_ become the therapist? When had Claire reverted to the scared kid Jordan had damaged so badly?

 

“It’s fine,” she grits. “You have work to do, you need to find James and I’m sure do a thousand other important police things and deal with…” Her voice dies for a moment. “You’re on a schedule, as you keep reminding me.” It’s petty, but she can’t let Audrey do this for her. She needs to regroup, remember how far she’s come from that scared girl Jordan had traumatized, all those years ago. She’d been so young, so eager, so ready to help everyone. Jordan had been a challenge, a puzzle to figure out – and one she’d failed.

 

It still bothers her, coils in her stomach some sleepless nights. She doesn’t even know anymore if it upsets her more that she couldn’t help the woman or that she’d misjudged Jordan so badly, that she hadn’t seen what a threat Jordan could be. It had nearly ruined Claire, and that’s what she clings to now; she’d picked herself up then, and she will again.

 

Audrey sighs, pinches the bridge of her nose.

 

“I have an idea.”

 

  
_so give me hope in the darkness that i will see the light_   
_cause oh, that gave me such a fright_   
_but i will hold on with all my might_   
_just promise me that we'll be alright_   


  
_ghosts that we knew will flicker from view_   
_and we'll live a long life_   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are love! =)


	9. these here are my desires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He really hates this town sometimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** Past rape and assault  
>  **Spoilers:** Through 3.06 (Real Estate)  
>  **Author's Notes:** I apologize for the super long wait, the holidays ended up being a lot busier than I expected. This chapter has also been giving me grief, so I decided to stop fiddling and just post it already. Seeing the promo for this week (IS IT FRIDAY YET???) I'm rather terrified to see what they're doing with Jordan's character, and I suspect this might become wildly AU but well. Look at all the fucks I do not give! I love Jordan and I'm not even sorry.
> 
>  
> 
> **Song for this chapter is "[Roll Away Your Stone](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2O-BwV0DDUY)".**

  
_roll away your stone, i'll roll away mine_  
 _together we can see what we will find_

_don't leave me alone at this time_  
 _for i'm afraid of what i will discover inside_  
 _cause you told me that i wouldn't find a home_  
 _within the fragile substance of my soul_  
 _and i have filled this void with things unreal_  
 _and all the while my character it steals_

_(and you, you've gone too far this time)_  


 

Nathan had intended on avoiding Audrey for the day, giving her time to cool off, but he hadn’t even made it back inside the station when she nearly bowled him over, murder in her eyes. She hadn’t said a thing other than, “My car, now,” her voice so dangerous he’d momentarily feared for his life. And then they were pushing 60 on a tiny Haven street and he didn’t have the courage to ask her a thing, just prayed he hadn’t done anything _else_ to make her this angry.

 

It’s only when they get into Claire’s office to find Jordan with her bare hand gripping the doctor’s neck, the other grasping at Claire’s scalp, that Nathan understands. Audrey’s anger and urgency, at least. But Jordan? What the _hell_ is she doing?

 

Audrey screams at Jordan to release Claire, threatening to shoot her, and Nathan finds himself echoing her words. Because whatever he’d thought Jordan was, it wasn’t _this_. Could he have misjudged her this badly? The woman he’d been kissing only half an hour ago, she’s not here. Jordan may have been devious and brusque but beneath that there’d been compassion, a deep empathy for others she’d masked with her cynicism. A painful vulnerability, an innate insecurity she’d concealed with her gloves.

 

But this Jordan? She has none of that. Her face is a mask of rage, a predatory smile twisting her mouth, her eyes glaring daggers. Nathan could swear they’re tinged _red_ , tells himself he must be imagining it. He must be.

 

This Jordan apparently has a sense of self-preservation, though, because she drops Claire carelessly. The therapist collapses, so white she looks like a corpse, her body convulsing so painfully on the floor Nathan feels sick. Audrey rushes over to her, and Nathan finds himself faced with another stranger.

 

He remembers the cemetery, the way Jordan’s eyes had glassed over, her face had turned to stone. She has that same look now, like she’s not even inside her own head, and his stomach twists sickeningly. The blank expression on her face is almost more terrifying than the rage. When she finally looks at him her eyes are back to their normal brown, wide and confused and haunted.

 

“Nathan?” she whispers. She looks at her bare hands, at Claire on the floor, and covers her mouth. “Did I… did I do this?” And she’s all Jordan again, mask gone as she stumbles backwards with a choked sob. “Oh god, not again, please not again…”

 

Nathan steps forward to catch her when she trips over a chair leg, gripping her shoulders tightly. She flinches, cries out and tries to jerk away from his touch, but he holds fast, carefully pulling her towards him. She looks at him, eyes so full of anguish and self-hate he feels nauseous. He wants to hate her, to judge her, to demand to know what the hell she’d done, but looking at her now he doesn’t think she has any idea. Any control.

 

He really hates this town sometimes.

 

So instead he pulls her to his chest, wraps his arms tightly around her as she starts to sob. Her fingers claw at his shirt, digging into his skin and he doesn’t feel it, he never feels a thing.

 

Don’t they just make a perfect, fucked up pair.

 

He doesn’t say a thing, not for a long time, because what the hell is there to say? They’ll need answers, at some point, but right now she’s too hysterical to even breathe. He buries his fingers in her hair, strokes the dark locks gently as she shakes and shakes because he can’t bring himself to blame her, not here. Not in a place where she was raped and she was the one who’d ended up cursed. Not when she’s so terrified, so _damaged_ , when she has no idea what the hell she’s done.

 

It’s not until long after Audrey leaves with Claire that Jordan starts to calm, her arms loosening their grip just a little. Nathan carefully guides her to a couch, whispering to her when she whimpers at the movement. “It’s okay, shh, just come sit. It’s alright, Jordan. It’s okay.”

 

“I- I don’t know what happened, Nathan,” she chokes. “Did I hurt Claire? I don’t… I don’t remember, I…” He cups her face gently in his hands, her skin shock white and cold, eyes wide and watery and so lost.

 

“I know you don’t,” he soothes, grabbing a blanket to wrap around her. She’s started to shake. “Shh, I believe you. We’ll figure it out, okay?” And he does believe her. He has no idea what the hell had just happened, but he believes that the woman with him now could never do what that… that stranger had done.

 

So he sits beside her as she gulps down air, her trembling hands twisting knots in her lap. “My gloves,” she stammers. “I need my gloves, please, I need…”

 

Nathan reaches over to grab them off the floor, helping her steady her hands enough to slip them on. “It’s okay,” he murmurs again. She rests her head in her hands, rocking back and forth a little, until he places a hand on her back and she stills. Shudders once, then takes a deep breath.

 

“What happened?” she asks him, voice low. “What did I do?” He falters, not sure what to say. “Tell me, Nathan,” she snaps, raw and aching like she already knows, just doesn’t want to believe it.

 

“What’s the last thing you remember?” he asks instead. She hisses a breath, teeth grinding so hard he can hear them.

 

“We were at the cemetery,” she states monotonously. “We were… you said you wanted to ask me something. And then…” Her whole body shudders, every muscle convulsing. “I don’t remember,” she whispers. “It’s just… just black and white and red, just…” _Red eyes_ , Nathan remembers. “And then I was here with you and Audrey pointing guns at me and Claire on the floor and…”

 

She bolts, stumbles to the nearest trashcan and retches. Nathan’s right behind her, pulling her hair from her face, feeling the minute changes in pressure as her body convulses even if he can’t feel her skin.

 

“I hurt her,” Jordan chokes. “I hurt her, didn’t I, I…” Nathan grabs some tissues from the desk, gently wipes her face.

 

“Jordan, look at me,”  he murmurs, cupping her cheek with one hand. “I don’t know what happened, but it wasn’t you. I’ve seen you, I know you. You don’t like hurting people, you wouldn’t do this.”

 

She’s not breathing right, short gasps that make his lungs ache. “But I did,” she sobs. “You saw me, you _saw_ me, Nathan, I was standing right over her, and my _hands_ …” She stares at them like they’re foreign objects. Nathan reaches out carefully, wraps his own fingers around her trembling covered ones.

 

“It wasn’t you,” he says again, firmly. He doesn’t know why he’s so sure of this, or why it matters so much to him. Maybe because she has no one else to stand up for her, to believe in her. Maybe because she’s so self-degrading, so much like him. So sure that her curse makes her less than human. A _freak_.

 

“You said ‘not again’ earlier,” he continues steadily. “What’d you mean?”

 

“I…” She pulls her hands from his, rocks back and covers her face. “I can’t, I can’t…” She’s still not breathing right, and Nathan feels utterly helpless. This has never been his strong point, talking. Comforting. Audrey’s always been the one to talk people down, reassure them, _understand_ them. (Except _him_ , why can’t she understand _him_ anymore? Why doesn’t she even want to try?) But somehow he doesn’t think Audrey will want to do much for Jordan.

 

So he takes her hands, gently pulls them from her face. “Jordan, look at me,” he says again, softly. He can hear her panting as she glances up, eyes stark with fear. Guilt, disgust. It only strengthens his resolve to make this _right_ , to do something good for her after using her so blatantly. It won’t even the score, but it’s something.

 

“I know this is hard, but I need you to explain it to me,” he orders, as gently as he can. “If we can figure it out, we can keep it from happening again.” She swallows, eyes glued to the floor. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt Claire,” he soothes. “I believe you. But I need you to help me understand it.”

 

She takes a deep breath, then another, and nods. He stands, pulls her up with him and resettles them on the couch. “This has happened before?” he asks. He keeps his voice carefully measured, non-judgmental. As non-threatening as possible. She nods again.

 

“After I…” She swallows, stares up at the ceiling for a moment. “After my trouble was… triggered, I was…” She shrugs, and he feels his stomach turn with rage, _hatred_ for the man who’d done this to her. “I was a wreck. I felt so… so _helpless_ , powerless. Over everything, my trouble, what’d… what’d happened.” She folds her hands in her lap, so carefully covered. “I couldn’t… I wouldn’t even leave my house, I was so scared.” Nathan feels nauseous. “My friend Grady, he convinced me to let Claire see me. They were the only people I’d talk to, for a long time.”

 

She pauses for a moment, eyes closed, and every cell in Nathan’s body aches to comfort her. Touch her. Even when he knows it’s probably the last thing she wants right now. She starts speaking again, voice so small he can hardly hear. “And then I heard that he… that he was going to get off with no charges, nothing, and I just…” She shrugs desperately. “I snapped. I don’t remember the next three days, all I remember is coming to in the bastard’s house, standing over him with Grady screaming at me. I went to see Claire the next day, because I had… I had no idea what the hell was happening to me, and when I got there she started asking me about him and if I’d hurt him and it all came back, the _helplessness_ and I…”

 

There are tears streaming down her cheeks again, breathing erratic. “I don’t remember what happened after that. I was just standing in her doorway with her staring at me from the floor looking at me like I was a monster, and I just…” She covers her mouth with one hand, eyes pressed closed.

 

“I ran,” she whispers. “I just ran. I didn’t know what else to do, how to… how to level out. I knew enough about the Troubles to know they’re triggered by emotion or trauma, so I just… I had to get away. From everything. So I didn’t hurt anyone else. Grady took me to a cabin, miles from anyone else. It took a few months, but… I’ve known him all my life, I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. More importantly, I wouldn’t hurt him. I…” She sighs, shoulders sagging wearily. “I’ve been stable since then. Until…” _Until today_.

 

She chokes off and he can’t help it, reaches out carefully to touch one gloved hand. He hears her breath catch but she doesn’t pull away, lets him wrap his fingers around hers. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs. The words are monumentally inadequate, but it’s the only thing he can think to say. She smiles tightly, eyes glued shut. He forces back the bile that chokes him, the rage and concern that nearly paralyze him. “Okay, so part of your Trouble is… rage blackouts.” She _laughs_.

 

“It sounds so normal when you put it like that.” She opens her dark eyes, watery but _her_.

 

He squeezes her hand. “Your eyes were actually kind of… red.” She raises an eyebrow.

 

“Seriously?”

 

“Seriously.”

 

She chews her lip, taking her hand back and running her fingers distractedly though her hair. “I guess that… all I remember when I try is _red_. I…” Her forehead furrows. “It’s just… flashes of black and white, like old photos, but…”

 

Nathan shakes his head. “You don’t need to remember,” he tells her gently. “That’s not what’s important right now. We need to find out how the blackouts are triggered and how we can stop them, okay?”

 

She smiles again, mirthlessly, stares at the ceiling. “Just like that? You’ll just forget about everything else?”

 

“It wasn’t you,” he states again.

 

“Pretty sure Claire would have something different to say.”

 

Nathan rubs his eyes wearily. “Look, we can argue semantics later. Let’s just focus on stopping them right now, alright?”

 

“Just another case.” She sounds so… so _hopeless_.

 

Nathan nods tightly, echoes, “Just another case.” Because it is, really. They’ve dealt with similar cases, people who had hurt others unaware. Hell, most of the Troubled they’ve helped have had no idea what they’re doing, don’t believe it even when it’s explained to them.

 

“Okay, so they’ve only happened in connection to…” Hell, he doesn’t even know the bastard’s name. “And when you don’t feel in control.” Jordan’s teeth clenches so hard Nathan’s jaw hurts, but she nods. “But… that can’t be all. Claire talked to you about it, in the Holloway house…”

 

“I had a gun,” Jordan explains wearily. “I was in control.” She presses her hands to her eyes with a frustrated growl. “Honestly, I thought I was… past it. There’ve been so many times I could’ve…”

 

Nathan blinks. “The man in the diner the other night. You could’ve let him touch you.”

 

“But that would mean he’d touch me.” Her voice is hard and there are so many levels of meaning behind the words it makes his head hurt. The only thing that can protect her is the one thing that can hurt her so badly, the one thing she can’t have, the one thing she craves as much as he does.

 

Yeah, he hates this town sometimes.

 

“This shouldn’t have happened,” Jordan states quietly. “Boyd (so he does have a name…) will never hurt me again, I know that. And Claire… I was already so confused, so scared, I think her… I thought she’d tell someone. I thought they’d lock me up somewhere, and that…. I guess it triggered whatever this is. To protect me. But that was years ago, and I’ve been stable since I came back.”

 

Nathan cocks his head a little. “You’ve thought about this a lot.” She nods.

 

“It was all I had to do, for months. I didn’t want to come back until I could be _sure_ …” She starts to sound a little hysterical again. “I don’t even know what I did to Claire the last time, Nathan. Or this time. Maybe I _should_ be locked up…”

 

Nathan shakes his head sharply. “If we used that logic half the town would be behind bars,” he tells her steadily. “And you haven’t even killed anyone.” He winces the moment the words are out of his mouth, but she smiles a little. Even a sad smile is better than none.

 

He touches her hand gently when she looks away. “I know you didn’t want to hurt Claire,” he says quietly. “This is no different from any other dangerous Trouble I’ve dealt with. You can’t control it.”

 

“I’m dangerous.” There’s a detachment in her voice that scares him, so he carefully brushes at the bare skin on her arm.

 

“Not to me.”

 

With a desperate sigh she leans toward him, resting her forehead on his shoulder. He automatically loops an arm around her, feels her trembling. “What was different today?” he asks, as gently as he can. “Why would it happen again now?”

 

She doesn’t answer, just takes a strangled breath, and it hits him.

 

It’s _him_.

 

“Oh.” It’s all he can choke out. Then, “God, Jordan, did I…”

 

She pulls away, shaking her head wearily. “I don’t know.” But she does, they both do. It’s the only thing that makes sense.

 

As though he hadn’t already felt guilty enough about this entire thing.

 

It still doesn’t make complete sense, though. There’ve been a thousand times she could’ve gone off, just since he’d met her. There’s something he’s missing, something connecting him and Claire and Boyd…

 

Oh. “You knew Boyd,” he says softly, before he can think. “You trusted him.” He’s pretty sure Jordan actually stops breathing.

 

“Yes,” she whispers. She doesn’t elaborate, and he doesn’t push, because it’s really not important for the purpose of the case. (For his own purposes, though, he wants to dig. Then find the man and torture him some more.)

 

“And the same with Claire,” he continues steadily, pretending he can’t feel her arm shaking where it’s pressed against his.  “And…” He hesitates, not sure he really wants an answer to this. “You trust me?”

 

She nods and it breaks his heart, for some reason. It’s not that he didn’t expect it, not after they’d made it through that house together, not after he’d just thrown his own trust of Jordan in Audrey’s face. But somehow he still feels like a traitor, like he’d tricked her into caring for him and then flipped it around back on her to trigger… _this_.

 

Except they both know the situation now, and for some reason he’s still here, they’re both still there. Despite everything. Maybe because of everything. (He likes it that she needs him more than he needs her.)

 

But for now, that actually makes things pretty damn simple. “So it happens when you think someone you trust betrayed you, put you in a situation out of your control,” he states in a careful monotone. She shivers. “That’s actually good news, Jordan.”

 

She makes a noise. “I really don’t see how.”

 

“Because you know who can trigger you. And I’m guessing it’s a pretty short list.” She smiles a little at her hands.

 

“So what, give everyone a heads up not to screw with me or I’ll go all Hulk on them?” Nathan actually laughs a little. (How long has it been since he really did that?)

 

“Yeah, something like that.” She’s still staring at her hands, but seems a lot calmer, and Nathan feels a strange sense of warmth tingle in his chest that he’d actually _helped_ her. Audrey has always been the one to fix things, while Nathan’s trailed along always feeling one step behind, always feeling like he’ll never be enough to really help anyone. (Never be enough to really help _Audrey_.)

 

Jordan twists her fingers together. “Why don’t you hate me?” she asks quietly, eyes glued to the floor. “How can you not hate me for this?”

 

Nathan suddenly feels very tired.

 

“There’s enough hate in this town already,” he answers dully. Audrey is going to hate him for this, he knows that. He’s not entirely sure why she has such a dislike for Jordan (okay, he does, he just isn’t sure he’s ready to face the fact that Audrey Parker is _jealous_ ), but after their conversation (argument) this morning he knows his partner will give him hell for letting Jordan go.

 

Maybe he deserves her hate. But Jordan doesn’t, no more than any of the Troubled they’ve worked with, and Nathan isn’t going to let Audrey’s resentment ruin Jordan’s life. Not after everything the woman has been through.

 

There’s a pressure against his hand and he glances down, startled, finds Jordan’s bare fingers twined through his.

 

“You’re a good man, Nathan Wuornos,” she murmurs. There’s a desperate ache in his chest at that, because once he might have wanted to agree but _it’s not black and white_. Because he’s doing things he never would have dreamed he could for a woman who no longer seems to care. Because everything is so fucking gray that he can’t tell one thing from the next, can’t _feel_ anything out and his only anchor has left him stranded in this fog of gray.

 

Gray and red.

  
_(darkness is a harsh term don't you think?)_

_and you, you've gone too far this time_  
 _you have neither reason nor rhyme_  
 _with which to take this soul that is so rightfully mine_

_it seems that all my bridges have been burned_  
 _but you say, "that's exactly how this grace thing works"_  
 _it's not the long walk home that will change this heart_  
 _but the welcome i receive with every start_  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are love! =)


	10. cold is the water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All too soon statements like that will be obsolete. Audrey won't be saying anything. Audrey will just be _gone_. The apartment upstairs will be empty; he'll have no one to make him spill coffee, no one to complain about the late night karaoke downstairs, no one to threaten him with parking tickets if he doesn't fix her drain. He doesn't think he'll ever be able to rent the apartment out again. It will never be anyone's but Audrey's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** Very brief mention of past abuse
> 
>  **Spoilers:** Through 3.06 (Real Estate)
> 
>  **Author's Notes:** Chapter features Duke, Claire, and Audrey. Song is "[Timshel](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kl-VCHzS1So)".

 

_death is at your doorstep_   
_and it will steal your innocence_   
_but it will not steal your substance_

_you are not alone in this_   
_as brothers we will stand and we'll hold your hand_

**_xxx_ **

 

Audrey calling for a favor always leaves Duke simultaneously excited and terrified. Because as much as he wants to help her, any way he can, her favors generally involve babysitting crazy Troubled people or, more recently, killing them.

 

Still, it’s _Audrey_ , so he gets in his truck and drives to the address she gives.

 

The doc hadn’t looked her best this morning – granted, _none_ of them had after that house. But she looks like a corpse now, so pale she makes Audrey look tan, huddled under a blanket on a bench by the parking lot. Audrey sits beside her, watching the therapist with worry clearly etched on her face (like Audrey needed something _else_ to worry about), and suddenly Duke wishes he was just babysitting a crazy Troubled person.

 

When he pulls up Audrey stands, relief on her face.

 

“Duke, hi,” she greets him tightly. He nods at Claire questioningly, and Audrey sighs. “It’s…” She glances at Claire, who nods. “It’s Jordan,” she tells Duke, looking back. “She, uh…”

 

There’s a beat, and then realization. “Touched her?” Duke feels a strange anger rush through him; he doesn’t even really know Claire, but she obviously cares about Audrey and that’s enough for him. Even if she did steal his ghost mug.

 

Audrey rubs her forehead, mutters, “Yeah, something like that.” Duke can practically feel the nervous tension vibrating off her. “Could you take her back to the Gull? She needs to rest, but I can’t risk leaving her alone-”

 

“Of course,” he cuts her off. “Your bed is best in Haven-” Audrey’s eyebrows raise a few inches, Claire chokes into the blanket, and he holds up his hands. “-which I know because I _bought_ it, remember?” Audrey shakes her head with a little smile and it’s all worth it, just for that. “Plus, I happen to be a very good cook. And I have a large selection of drinks, when you feel like forgetting today.”

 

“And here I was just starting to remember everything,” Audrey states wryly.

 

Duke winces. “Right, uh…” Audrey just shakes her head again, looking down at Claire. The brunette looks even worse up close, her eyes covered in shadows, her whole body trembling the slightest bit. From the way Audrey keeps gravitating toward her, he can tell his friend is worried. Very worried. He _hates_ seeing her worried.

 

Whatever Jordan had done, he hopes it’s enough to make Nathan see things straight again.

 

“One condition,” Duke deadpans. The two women fix him with glares that nearly send him back a step; he’s not so sure he likes them teaming up like this. “No therapizing me,” he threatens. Audrey bites back a grin and Claire’s lips twitch, just the smallest bit.

 

“Not on my agenda,” she answers hoarsely. “Although… I do have to ask about your choice of shirt.”

 

Audrey bursts out laughing _(mission accomplished)_ and Duke throws his hands up. “Ask your friend,” he grumbles. “She’s the one who spilled coffee all over me, and this is the only spare I had at the Gull.”

 

“And you own it… why?” Audrey asks innocently.

 

Duke opens and closes his mouth. “Okay, because you have a gun, I’m going to let that go.” Audrey’s still smiling widely, and from the shadows around her eyes he can tell she really, really needed that. “Okay, go,” he orders, waving his hands at her. “I’ll take care of your therapist friend, you go do important cop things.” Audrey’s smirk fades a little. She presses a hand to Claire’s shoulder, murmurs something to the doctor that Duke can’t hear. Claire nods, then stands unsteadily, stumbles toward Duke’s truck.

 

Duke climbs into the driver’s side, can’t help noticing the way Claire’s fingers shake as she tries to buckle the seatbelt, the way she’s not breathing quite right. Audrey leans against the door, concern strewn all across her face. “I’m gonna go deal with… her,” the cop bites. “ _And_ Nathan.” The venom in her voice is a little scary.

 

“It’s not his fault, Audrey,” Claire sighs. Audrey just shakes her head, arms folded tightly across her chest. “Audrey,” Claire says again, almost warningly. “ _Talk_ to him. If you start assuming things again this will only get worse.” Audrey glares at the therapist, looking almost like a petulant child, and Duke suddenly wants to laugh. It’s a little refreshing to see someone who can talk her down.

 

“Fine,” the cop mutters, waving a hand and looking at Duke. “Just… take care of her.” Duke sketches a salute as she walks away.

 

 

***

 

Claire is silent for the ride, shivering quietly even under her blanket. Duke honestly has no idea what the hell he could possibly say; she’s a _shrink_ , she knows how to talk her way out of things even better than he does. And _this_ kind of talking has never exactly been his strong suit.

 

Still, she looks so small and scared curled on the seat, turned away from him to stare out the window. He wonders absently if he should take her to the hospital, decides that between Claire and Audrey he’d probably never walk again. No, best to stick with what Audrey had told him. Besides, taking care of Claire can’t possibly be any more difficult or frustrating than trying to do it for Audrey.

 

And he also knows that the best way to keep Audrey relatively sane is to distract her, give her something else to focus on. Someone else to worry about or try to fix. And Claire and Audrey are almost disturbingly alike in that way, from what he’s seen.

 

“Can I ask you something?” he states into the silence, half-expecting her to just ignore him or not even hear him. But she blinks, makes an assenting noise. “Did you like my waffles?”

 

Claire starts laughing, strangled sounds that are half-sobs, but Duke figures it’s better than nothing. “Yeah, Duke, they were great,” she chokes.

 

He smiles a little. “You know I don’t make waffles for just anyone.”

 

She waves a hand in his general direction. “Yeah, Audrey said something about that.”

 

That sobers him up, because all too soon statements like that will be obsolete. Audrey won’t be saying anything. Audrey will just be _gone_. The apartment upstairs will be empty; he’ll have no one to make him spill coffee, no one to complain about the late night karaoke downstairs, no one to threaten him with parking tickets if he doesn’t fix her drain. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to rent the apartment out again. It will never be anyone’s but Audrey’s.

 

“Is Audrey okay?” The words come from his mouth before he thinks.

 

Claire turns to look at him, eyebrows raised. “You know I can’t answer that. And wouldn’t, even if I could.”

 

Duke smiles tightly. “Okay, I just meant… this morning she said something about her brain bleeding, and how that’s why she’s been passing out, and I just want to make sure she’s not… dying or something.” Claire looks away, and Duke feels a little kernel of anxiety explode in his chest.

 

“She’s not dying,” Claire states unconvincingly. Duke decides she sounds too weary to push it any more.

 

He hesitates, then asks because even if there’s nothing he can do and even if he’s the last person she’d want to talk to, he’d feel too guilty if he didn’t say anything. “Are you okay?”

 

Claire glances at him in surprise. “I will be,” she answers quietly. She’s not trembling so badly anymore, Duke notices with satisfaction.

 

He stares straight ahead, hands a little white on the wheel. “You know, I kind of hope Jordan comes to the Gull,” he states steadily. “I don’t usually enjoy my Trouble, but I’d really love to kick her ass.”

 

He sees Claire smile out of the corner of his eye, closing her eyes to lean against the window as the tension in the car drops a level. That must’ve been what Audrey had told her, Duke realizes – to trust him. (Truth be told, he’s getting really sick of everyone always assuming the worst about him.) Claire must really trust Audrey, that she’d take the cop’s word about a murdering smuggler right after being tortured.

 

He thinks he should probably be offended, but looking at her huddled against the door, eyes closed and deathly pale, he finds he’s only grateful.

 

(How are they ever going to manage without Audrey?)

 

Claire’s half-asleep by the time they get to the Gull. He touches her arm gently without thinking and she jumps, suddenly wide awake, eyes wild and terrified. _Idiot_.

 

“Just me,” he apologizes softly, raising his hands. He remembers the way Tommy had reacted just from one brief hand on Jordan’s arm, wonders just how long Jordan had kept her hands on Claire. He really wants to ask, but figures it’s probably the last thing the doctor will want to talk about.

 

“We’re here,” he says instead, listening to her rapid breathing and feeling an annoying surge of guilt in his stomach. She doesn’t answer, just sits stock-still with her hands clenched tightly in the blanket, staring straight ahead like she’s trying to tune out the rest of the world. (He recognizes that look, remembers it on his mother’s face when she’d been trying to pull herself together after one of his father’s drunken rampages. When she hadn’t thought Duke was watching.)

 

So he gives Claire a moment, waits until her fingers ease their hold and her breathing evens to murmur her name. “I’m sorry,” he states.

 

She glances at him, a vague mockery of a smile twisting her lips. “Didn’t know that word was in your vocabulary,” she mumbles.

 

“I make exceptions when I know Audrey will shoot me otherwise.” He tries for lightness, but the words stick in his throat because it _always comes back to Audrey_. “Speaking of, if I don’t feed you I’m a dead man.”

 

Claire makes a noise of protest, and eventually he settles for getting her upstairs with a tray of food and the promise she’ll eat it after she’s slept. Audrey still doesn’t have a TV (“ _When would I ever have time to watch anything?”_ ), so Duke raids her stash of vampire novels she still thinks are cleverly hidden by the fireplace (really, did she forget he’d furnished the place?) and settles onto the couch to wait.

 

 

_**xxx** _

 

  
_and you have your choices_   
_and these are what make man great_   
_his ladder to the stars_

_(but i can't move the mountains for you)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are love! =)


	11. the hole when you're not near

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She's going to regret that, she realizes belatedly, can tell where this conversation is going. But she's so dazed and Nathan is so fucking close and his warmth, his smell, they're intoxicating, mind-numbing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Spoilers:** Through 3.06 (Real Estate)
> 
>  **Author's Notes:** Sorry for the long wait, this chapter was a freaking nightmare. Audrey and Nathan just refuse to cooperate with me. Well, mainly, Nathan refuses. But they are just both such stupid idiots I cannot. I literally rewrote this thing at least 5 times and it's so blurred into my brain right now I probably wouldn't notice blatant errors if they jumped out of the page at me, so excuse anything horrible.
> 
> Song is "[Hold On To What You Believe](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9VI8-6aXsFA)".

_i can't promise you that i won't let you down_  
 _i can't promise you that i will be the only one around when your hope falls down_

_and now this land means less and less to me  
_ _without you breathing through its trees_

_i ran away_  
 _i could not take the burden of both me and you_  
 _it was too fast_  
 _casting love on me as if it were a spell i could not break_  
 _when it was a promise i could not make_

_but what if i was wrong?_

**_xxx_ **

****

After the past few days (or months, but who's counting), Audrey is just about at her breaking point. Seeing Nathan with Jordan in Claire's office had sent her teetering at the edge. But now, listening to him _defend_ her, after _everything_ – it's the last straw.

"I hope you're fucking kidding me," she snaps, her headache escalating to explosion status. "She just _tortured_ Claire – who happens to work for the police department, in case you'd forgotten. Or does that not even matter to you anymore?"

Nathan glances at the door to the next room, where Audrey had insisted he lock Jordan. "Of course it matters," he almost growls. "But I can't exactly arrest her for what she did-"

"Why the hell not?"

"What would I cite her for, exactly?" he demands. "Having a painful touch? There's no physical evidence, Parker, there's nothing here except maybe threatening an employee of the state-"

"My word used to mean something to you," Audrey cuts him off coldly.

Nathan rubs a hand across his face, turning away. "That's not what this is about, Parker, and you know it," he states in a low voice. "When have we _ever_ been able to prosecute a Troubled person? Or even tried? And what would we do with her? Put her in jail, where everyone she touched – even the _guards_ – would be down in a second? Or maybe you just think we should get Duke to kill her, like Harry Nix."

She can't help flinching at that, just a little, but it's not nearly enough to stop her. "Don't you dare," she hisses. "Don't dare try to make this about _me_ , Nathan. The Troubled we deal with, the ones that hurt other people – they can't control it. They don't know what they're doing, and once they do they're horrified. Jordan knew _exactly_ what she was doing. She _tortured_ Claire, not just today. She did it a few years ago, to make sure Claire didn't tell anyone about that other guy she hurt. She _hurts_ people, Nathan, and she doesn't care. She doesn't regret it." There's a flash of… something on his face, and for a moment she thinks he might actually see reason.

But then he says, "That's not true," and she literally sees red for a moment. "Audrey, she's _Troubled-"_

"Jeezus _fuck_ , Nathan, how are you _still_ defending her?" she snarls. His eyes widen, but now with almost fear.

"Audrey, you're bleeding," he bites, voice so tight it vibrates.

She wipes at her nose, comes away with red fingers. "Goddammit," she mutters, grabbing a tissue from Claire's desk. Apparently this is becoming a habit, one she'll have to ask the doctor about later. Probably just stress. She hopes.

She looks up to find Nathan _staring_ , face shock white and so _scared_ that her heart drops a foot, then makes her irrationally angry. He has no right to be concerned, not when he'd ignored her well enough before.

"I'm fine," she snaps.

But he just continues to stare, finally whispering, "I'm sorry."

And suddenly, just like that, it drains. Every ounce of anger, of hate or jealousy or whatever the hell has been driving her these past few weeks. She slumps against Claire's desk, rubs a hand over her face.

"I don't want to fight anymore, Nathan," she says wearily.

He turns slowly, his eyes so full of anguish they're like daggers in her already throbbing skull. "Then why are we?" Thick with unshed tears again, like in the precinct when she'd told him to stop protecting her.

She shakes her head slowly, remembers the pain and fear in the Holloway house, when he'd walked away from her. After Jordan. "This thing with Jordan, it's only work?" He hesitates, just for a moment, and Audrey smiles sadly. "That's why."

"Audrey, it's not…" He growls in frustration, running a hand through his hair. "I didn't know, until after I met her. That she was… like me. That I could help her."

"Help her." Her voice sounds hollow, even to her ears. Help her how, exactly? _Did you know the skin on your lips is the most sensitive on your entire body?_

And then it hits her, like a sledgehammer. _Help her_. Help her the way Audrey could help him, except she never does. Is that what he'd wanted from her? Is that all he'd ever wanted from her?

She feels nauseous.

Nathan takes a step forward, reaches out to touch her hand. It takes everything Audrey has not to flinch away. "Do you know why I don't do this?" he asks quietly, running his fingers along the back of her hand. Audrey suppresses a shiver, refuses to let him see how easily he gets to her. "Do you know why I didn't tell you, for a long time?" He runs his fingers up her wrist, slowly, too slowly.

Audrey can't bring herself to speak.

"Because this…" He touches her cheek and she can't help gasping, just a little. "This isn't all we are, Audrey. This isn't why I…" His voice dies but his hand says enough, cupping her face gently, thumb stroking her skin. "I never wanted you to think the only reason I care is because I can feel you," he murmurs, face inches from hers. "Because nothing could be further from the truth. You were the first real friend I'd had in a long time, long before I felt you. Just because you're _you_."

Audrey feels tears burn her eyes, closes them against the naked emotion on his face. She can't handle this, not now, not when she's supposed to be furious with him for Jordan. Not when his touch affects her almost as much as hers affects him. She can't move, can't breathe, can't do anything but lean into his hand and wish she could take back the past month.

"I'm sorry." The words slip from her mouth before she knows what she's saying, her voice tiny and broken and unrecognizable. Nathan's thumb brushes at her cheeks and she thinks she might be crying again, and _god_ she is really sick of crying. She's sick of being so scared and lost and _lonely_. "Nathan, I'm _sorry_ ," she chokes. "I've been such an idiot, I thought… I thought I was protecting you but I just made things so much worse and I'm _sorry-"_

"Stop." He strokes her cheek again, thumb brushing right beside her lips, and she's too overwhelmed to say anything else. "I know, Audrey." His steady warmth, so _close_ , reminds her suddenly of how much she's _missed_ him. Her partner, her friend. She'd pushed him away because she'd been scared he was something more, but in the process she'd lost more than just her potential lover. She'd lost her confidant, her closest friend, and it suddenly hits her how _badly_ she's needed him.

She half-launches herself at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck before she can think too much. And he doesn't hesitate to pull her closer – he _always_ waits for her to make the first move and it's beyond frustrating but right now she doesn't really care, because his arms are strong and safe around her and all she can think is that this feels like _home_.

"I'm sorry," she chokes again into his shoulder. "I didn't want to hurt you, Nathan."

"I know," he murmurs again, lips right by her ear. "We'll figure it out, Audrey. We always do." They always do until one day they won't, because she'll be gone. Less than a month and they're running out of time and they're no closer to working this out. Any of it. It's enough to bury her face in his shirt, to shut out the rest of the world for just a moment. Take a breath, then another, feels the knot of tension that's been aching in her chest for the past few weeks dissipate as Nathan runs his hand along her back.

But she _smells_ Jordan, all over him. Imagines the woman's lips on his, her fingers on his skin, and finds herself pulling back. He looks down at her, worry lines on his forehead and eyes dark with concern.

"Audrey." It's all he says, just her name – _her_ name, when it comes from his lips. Other times she may doubt that it's who she really is, but with Nathan she never doubts at all.

"I'm fine," she tells him quietly. The expression on his face doesn't change. "Really, Nathan, I promise."

He wipes at the blood on her face, states tightly, "Claire told me, about the flashbacks." Of course she did. "Audrey-"

"It's fine, Nathan," she cuts him off. She really, really doesn't want to have this conversation right now.

"No, it's not fine," he snaps. "It's not fine because you're my partner and I didn't even notice!"

And that stops her cold, freezes the breath in her lungs. She'd been expecting accusations and demands that she see doctors and stop remembering – but this? He puts a finger lightly under her chin, lifts her face to study her, and if he keeps touching her like this she's going to just melt or jump him or something equally embarrassing.

"Audrey, I… I don't know what's been going on with us, but you're my _partner_. You always have my back, and I should've had yours. I'm sorry." She's completely speechless, for possibly the first time in her life.

Nathan drops his hand, and the loss of his touch is absolutely devastating. "I trust you," he says quietly. "And I need you to trust _me_ , Audrey."

"I do." She doesn't even know she's saying the words until she hears them, sees a small smile on Nathan's face. "You know I do." She's going to regret that, she realizes belatedly, can tell where this conversation is going. But she's so dazed and Nathan is _so fucking close_ and his warmth, his smell, they're intoxicating, mind-numbing.

"Then listen to me," he pleads. "Just let me try to explain." She sighs, rubs a hand across her forehead wearily.

She supposes she owes him that, at least.

_**_xxx_ ** _

_but we're young_  
 _open flowers in the windy fields of this war-torn world_  
 _and love, this city breathes the plague of loving things more than their creators_

_when the darkness has robbed you of all your sight_  
 _hold on to what you believed in the light_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are love!


	12. i know the shame in your defeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's hard to see red in the washed out dusk of evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Spoilers:** Post 3.06 (Real Estate), with general spoilers for later episodes.
> 
> **Warnings:** Passing reference to sexual assault
> 
> **Author's Notes:** Jordan gets a real chapter, and everyone (Read, **MightyMillie**. I promise, Claire is coming =P) is going to hate me! Yay. Her character is just SO fascinating to me, despite (or because of?) what they've done with her in more recent episodes. And I'm not even going to mention Claire, because everything still hurts and I'm never getting over what they did to her. Especially if they never air 3.12 and we never see the rest. Thank god for AU fanfic!
> 
> Song is "[The Cave](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3KkUeRPjc-Y)".

  
_it's empty in the valley of your heart_   
_the sun_   
_it rises slowly_   
_as you walk away from all the fears and all the faults you've left behind_   


  
_you take what is yours and i'll take mine_   
_now let me at the truth which will refresh my broken mind_   


_i know my call despite my faults and despite my growing fears_

_**xxx** _

Audrey Parker is the last person Jordan had expected to walk through the door – locked, of course, per the cop's order. She was sure the woman had left long ago, leaving Nathan behind to clean up Jordan's mess.

(Oh god, what had she _done_ …)

Audrey stalks over slowly to where Jordan's curled herself onto a couch, the blonde's face blank, impassive. Unreadable. Jordan had never actually met the woman until last night in that awful house, but she'd heard plenty about the infamous Audrey Parker. Lucy Ripley. Sarah Vernon. Others before, names Jordan is certain others in the Guard must know. But the Guard hadn't survived as long as it has by sharing secrets, and Jordan's one of the newer members. Not even born into it.

Still, she'd known enough to have a healthy respect for the woman. Maybe even a little fear. And Audrey had lived up to her reputation, greeting Jordan with a raised gun. (Standing beside _Claire_ , of all people, which had shaken Jordan more than she'd like to admit). Jordan had expected the mistrust from the cop, the judgment, but she certainly hadn't expected her own jealousy, strong and bitter in her mouth every time she saw Nathan and Audrey together. Every time Audrey touched him, because the others might be oblivious but Jordan knows exactly what Audrey is, knows Nathan must be able to feel her. Feel her the way Jordan can feel him.

Jordan knows Nathan is using her. She knows Guard is almost certain to ask her to use him right back. Manipulate him. For information, for favors, for whatever they felt is necessary. And Jordan will do it, whatever they ask, because it's what she does. It's who she is. (In a small sick part of her mind, she hopes Audrey is using Nathan the same way Nathan is using Jordan. That the reason Nathan is so taken with his partner is because he can feel her.)

What Jordan hadn't expected was to actually _like_ the Chief. And to be able to _touch_ him… she has no idea how to even begin to process that. It's been years since she's felt another person's touch for more than a brief moment, without screams. It's intoxicating, terrifying. (And, apparently, enough to send her years back. Back to when she'd been broken, a shell of painful skin and nothing else.)

Is that the only reason Jordan cares about Nathan? For his touch? She can't deny the power that simple thing holds, for someone like her. For someone like Nathan. But it's more than that, at least for Jordan. In that house, and today… he'd done things he hadn't needed to. He'd protected her, he'd _cared_ when he could've just left her to the wolves. (That horrible voice in her head tells her it's only because he needs her, because she's his contact in the Guard. He doesn't care beyond that, he's only touching her because he knows how much it means, better than anyone. He's only going to use her, just like everyone else. Hasn't she learned that lesson yet?)

Audrey leans against a desk across from Jordan, arms crossed tightly across her chest. Her expression is still carefully neutral, but her eyes are dark and angry. Jordan expects no help or empathy from her, not for a second.

"So Nathan told me his… theory." Audrey's voice is cold enough to crack, and it's all Jordan can do not to flinch. The last thing she needs right now is more judgment, more decrees of her abject cruelty. She doubts anything she says will change Audrey's mind, whatever the cop has decided to think. So she says nothing.

Audrey's jaw clenches, fingers tightening on her arms. "I want to hear you say it yourself," the blonde states quietly. "I want you to look me in the eyes tell me you don't remember what you did."

"I don't." Jordan rasps, eyes fixed on Audrey's haunted blue ones. For a moment Jordan actually feels bad for her, trying so hard to deal with the Troubles without the resources of the Guard. Without the immunity. (But then, she has Nathan…)

The cop nods, slowly. "Do you regret it?"

Jordan thinks of Claire cowering on the floor, whispers, "Of course I do. I never wanted to hurt Claire, you have to believe me. Think whatever else you want about me, but I _never_ wanted to hurt her." Audrey's glaring daggers, fingers drumming against her arm in a rapid pattern, and Jordan feels a strange panic. She can handle the judgments from almost anyone; she likes to think she doesn't care what people think of her, and for the most part it's true. But for some reason, this matters. Audrey Parker is the… the messiah for the Troubled, and Jordan _needs_ her to believe this. Because otherwise she doesn't think she'll believe it herself.

"Claire was the one who helped me, when my Trouble first started," she almost pleads. "Why would I want to hurt her?" Audrey studies her for another long moment, finally nods a little.

"What about Boyd?"

_That_ , that Jordan definitely doesn't want to talk about. _That_ she's tried very hard not to even think about, over the years. For whatever everyone says about her, she's not a monster. She's _not_. She _hates_ hurting people, hates it when the Guard asks her to use her touch. It makes her sick, gives her nightmares that leave her shaking and sleepless for nights on end.

But that man? Her… (her mind skitters around the term _friend_ ) …acquaintance, who had violated her so carelessly, left her broken and bleeding and untouchable. Damaged goods. She can't regret what she did to him. She just can't. Because whatever pain he'd suffered, it couldn't've possibly compared to what he'd inflicted on her.

So she doesn't answer Audrey, _can't_ answer. Just stares at her hands, so carefully covered, because of _him_.

She's assuming Nathan told Audrey everything. (Of course he did, and it shouldn't rankle as much as it does.) So instead she asks, "Would you?" And Audrey looks away for the first time, hand on her neck. "You act like you're so much better than me, but you asked Duke Crocker to kill that Troubled man. You killed Matt West, that boy who lit things on fire. You helped Nikki Coleman poison her husband, when the police station was in lockdown." She smiles a little at the startled look on Audrey's face. "We keep tabs on everything that happens with the Troubled. So yeah, we know what you've done."

"I didn't have a choice," Audrey Parker snaps.

"You think I did?" Jordan shakes her head. "At least you knew what you were doing. So many of us don't. You know that." Audrey believes her, no matter how much the cop doesn't want to. Jordan can see it on her face. "I'm sorry for what I did to Claire," Jordan tells her quietly, because she is. She really is. "But I can't tell you I regret what happened to Boyd. He deserved it. He's a monster."

Audrey purses her lips. "That's not your call," she bites, but she doesn't sound convinced, just exhaustedly restating rhetoric.

"And Harry Nix was yours?"

The cops stares for a long moment, then wheels and stalks to the door. When she has one hand on the doorknob she turns, face a mask of anger. "I trust Nathan," she states, voice like ice. _Congratulations._ Jordan bites her tongue. "But if you hurt Claire again, I will kill you."

She leaves without another word, slamming the door behind her.

It seems hours later that the door finally creaks open again. It's dark out, and Jordan hadn't had the energy or will to turn a light on. She sits in the dark, a ghost in shadow. A pale shell draped in black and gray. It seems fitting, somehow, like by hiding in the dusk her Trouble might simply be erased. Give her darkness to the black and maybe no one could distinguish them; it's hard to see red in the washed out dusk of evening.

But light streams through the cracked door, almost blinding, Nathan's shadow long and lean on the floor. She remembers Thorton, a prisoner in his house with no light. Wonders if maybe she should be locked away somewhere too, somewhere she can't hurt anyone. She could leave with Grady, when he gets back from California. Go back to the cabin they'd stayed at, what seems like a lifetime ago. Just forget all of this.

Maybe she could even bring Nathan with her.

But no. He would never leave this town, would never leave Audrey. And Jordan couldn't abandon all the Troubled, just because her own curse was destroying her life.

Nathan walks over slowly to stand in front of her, his eyes taking in her curled form on the couch. She wants to apologize, to ask what Audrey had said, to demand to know what they're going to do with her. But the words die in her throat, because she realizes she doesn't really want to know. She half-hopes he's here to kill her, wishes he were Duke instead because then she'd _know_. One drop of her blood, one dagger to the chest, and it would all be over.

But Nathan just reaches out a hand instead of a knife. "Let me take you home," is all he says, and somehow that hurts more than all the rest.

And against all her better judgments, she takes his hand and lets him.

_**xxx** _

__

  
_because i need freedom now_   
_and i need to know how to live my life as it's meant to be_   


  
_so make your siren's call and sing all you want_   
_i will not hear what you have to say_   


  
_and i will hold on hope_   
_and i'll find strength in pain_   
_and i will change my ways_   


_i'll know my name as it's called again_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are love! =)


	13. keep my eyes to serve, my hands to learn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What, they have a class on how to handle human tasers at Yale?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Spoilers:** Through 3.06 (Real Estate)
> 
>  **Warnings:** Prescription medication?
> 
>  **Author's Notes:** I've been editing this over and over for weeks now, along with the next 5 chapters. There's a few parts I'm pretty undecided about, but what the hell. **MightyMillie** has been begging and begging and even wrote me a fic based on this fic as inspiration, so HERE YOU GO THIS IS FOR YOU NOW WRITE ME SOME CUPCAKES OF MY OWN PLEASE =P
> 
> Song for this chapter is "[Below My Feet](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1AxH22K2-YE)".

 

  
_you were cold as the blood through your bones_  
 _and the light which led us from our chosen homes_

_and now i sleep_  
 _sleep the hours and that i can't weep_  
 _when all i knew was steeped in blackened holes_

_i was lost_

 

**_xxx_ **

 

By the time she gets home, Jordan’s words and accusations spinning in her head, Audrey is ready to kill someone. Maim. Torture. Preferably someone who dresses all in black and hurts Audrey’s friends for a living. The sight of Claire curled on her bed, however, drowns every ounce of anger in half a second, leaves only crushing concern. Duke blinks himself awake from the couch when Audrey closes the door as silently as she can, not wanting to disturb Claire.

 

“Hey,” he greets her quietly. She returns a whispered, “Hey,” pads over to the couch to find him with one of her vampire novels on his lap.

 

Duke smiles tightly when he notices her glance. “They’re not half-bad,” he monotones, ducking when she throws her jacket at him. He glances at his watch, eyes widening a little. “Crap. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” Audrey shrugs.

 

“It’s alright. Thanks for staying.”

 

Duke just raises an eyebrow. “You have a gun. It’s very convincing.”

 

Audrey rolls her eyes. “Don’t worry, Duke, I won’t tell anyone you did something nice.” Her eyes wander over to Claire’s prone form, then the piles of untouched food on the table. “How is she?”

 

He opens and closes his mouth a few times, raising his hands. “I honestly have no idea. She’s… however she wants me to think she is.” Yeah, that sounds about right. Downside of trying to help a psychiatrist. “So what happened with Jordan?”

 

Audrey sighs, rubbing at her forehead. “It’s… complicated.”

 

“When isn’t it?” Audrey almost groans at that. “Do I need to kick Nathan’s ass for you?” Duke asks, and for half a second Audrey actually considers it.

 

“Like I’d need you to do it for me,” she growls, smirking. “Don’t tempt me.”

 

Duke stands, rubbing his eyes. “Well, then I’m off, if it’s alright with you, Officer Agent Parker.” Audrey waves a hand, glaring, grabs her book from him. He hesitates at the door, turning back. “She’ll be glad you’re home,” he tells her quietly, before closing the door. And that just makes every part of her ache, equal parts guilt and concern.

 

It’s all Audrey can do once he’s gone to change into sweats, debating what to do next. It’s too late now to take Claire home, and Audrey doesn’t have the heart to wake the woman anyway. All she knows is that there’s no way she can leave her friend alone tonight. Audrey studies Claire for a moment, taking in her pale skin, the lines of pain on her forehead. There are tear streaks on her cheeks, and Audrey realizes with a nauseating jolt she must’ve waited until she was relatively alone to shed them.

 

Audrey tries to climb under the blankets without waking her friend, but the doctor’s eyes snap open as she moves the bed slightly. The panic in them makes Audrey sick, and she quickly reaches out to touch Claire’s arm. “Hey, Claire, easy,” she soothes. “It’s just me.” The therapist trembles under her hand, her breathing shallow and rapid.

 

“Audrey?” Claire’s voice is rough with sleep, hoarse from screaming. Audrey smooths a dark strand of hair back from her face, murmurs, “Yeah, it’s just me. I didn’t mean to wake you up.” Claire closes her eyes, gravitates unconsciously forward toward Audrey. “How’re you feeling?”

 

Claire makes a noncommittal noise, mumbles, “What time’s it?” Audrey shrugs, grips the therapist’s shoulder again gently and finds her shaking.

 

“Late,” Audrey answers tightly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t expect things to take so long.” Claire’s eyes are still pressed closed, forehead creased with memories, and Audrey’s not sure the doctor even hears her. She runs her fingers through her friend’s hair again, murmurs, “Claire?” The brunette’s breathing is shallow, hitched, like she’s holding herself together by a thread.

 

Audrey carefully lays down beside her, tugging the blankets back up over both of them when Claire shivers. “Hey,” she whispers, touching the other woman’s cheek. Claire starts, fear in her eyes again when they snap open, and the concern that tightens Audrey’s chest makes it hard to breathe. “What can I do?” she asks, almost pleadingly. “Do you need anything? Are you in pain?”

 

Claire shakes her head miserably, visibly trembling. “I’m just really glad you’re here,” she whispers, voice strained and a couple notes too high, and Audrey _absolutely_ can’t stand it.

 

“Come here, honey,” she breathes, tugging Claire close enough to slip her arms around her friend’s shaking body. The therapist starts to sob, horrible, wrenching sounds that twist like daggers in Audrey’s stomach. “Oh, Claire,” she whispers. Audrey can’t imagine how scared the woman must be. She finds herself wondering what had happened the last time Jordan had done this, if Claire had just gone home alone and in pain, and tightens her arms so much they ache. “Shh, it’s alright,” Audrey murmurs. “I’m here now, okay? You’re safe, I promise.”

 

She gently touches the back of Claire’s neck, where Jordan had almost scruffed her like a fucking cat, and the doctor whimpers. “Easy,” Audrey soothes. “This still hurts?” Claire doesn’t answer, just gasps a few breaths and pulls back, eyes still tightly shut.

 

“’s fine,” she chokes. “’m fine, I need to be fine, I can’t…” Audrey works her fingers gently through Claire’s hair, searching for any damage Jordan might’ve done.

 

“You’re not fine,” she states tightly, when Claire whines low in her throat as Audrey hits another tender spot. “Jeezus, Claire.” She’ll need to force her friend to see a doctor tomorrow, to make sure there’s no permanent damage. Tonight, though, Audrey knows Claire just needs comfort more than anything. Safety, care.

 

Then the therapist whispers an almost inaudible, “I’m sorry,” and Audrey’s heart just snaps, the anger still simmering inside flaring up to unbearable levels. She’s going to fucking _kill_ Jordan.

 

“Don’t,” is all the cop can manage, her voice quivering with rage. Claire winces at her tone, eyes pressed closed in her pale face as she leans back into her pillow, away from Audrey. It makes the guilt surge again, and Audrey mentally kicks herself for being so careless. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” she says, much more gently. “None of this is your fault, Claire, okay?”

 

Claire relaxes a little, body sagging toward Audrey’s. “I should be stronger,” she mumbles. “I should be able to handle this...”

 

Audrey clenches her jaw until she can speak without anger, returns to combing her fingers through Claire’s hair. “What, they have a class on how to handle human tasers at Yale?” she asks, as lightly as she can manage. It draws a small chuckle from the doctor.

 

Tears streak down Claire’s cheeks and she tries miserably to wipe them off, her fingers shaking, and suddenly Audrey feels entirely inadequate. Useless. She has no idea how to help her friend; Claire is the shrink, not her. Audrey’s only ever been able to fumble her way through individual cases, and suddenly that just doesn’t seem like enough. Not when it’s _Claire_ , not when failure isn’t an option. Because Claire – Claire is keeping _Audrey_ together at the moment, and Audrey thinks she might just crack and go batshit insane without the therapist to ground her. Because without Nathan…

 

No, she can’t let herself go there.

 

Because for all that she’s Audrey’s shrink, Claire is human. She’s a friend. The more Audrey gets to know her, the more she realizes how alike they are. Both stubborn, bold and blunt and entirely without a filter. Both throw everything into their work, both care too much about the people they help. So Audrey may not know exactly what Claire needs, but she knows what _she_ would need right now. Touch. Comfort. Human connection and love. A reminder that she’s not alone in this crazy town, that she doesn’t have to be fine and together and in control every single moment of the day.

 

So she slips an arm back around Claire, pulling her closer. “You don’t need to be okay right now,” she murmurs. “You don’t need to be Dr. Callahan tonight, honey. You can just be my friend Claire, who is scared and in pain and needs someone to keep her safe tonight.” Claire chokes, body shaking with silent sobs as she buries her face into Audrey’s shoulder, one arm reaching up to curl halfway around the cop’s neck. Audrey rubs her back soothingly, whispers, “I’m here, sweetheart. I’ll keep you safe, you can let go.”

 

The platitudes fall easily from her lips, because Audrey knows exactly what she’d need to hear in this situation. Because so many times all she’s wanted was someone to hold her, to let her fall apart in safety, to know that there would be no judgment, no expectations. Only love and care, steady and constant and grounding. Audrey may not have much to give most people, may not be all that great at relationships or social interactions in general, but this is one thing she _can_ do for her friend. Because Claire had been there for her, because Claire is _so like her_ and it physically hurts to watch the woman trying so desperately to deal with this on her own.

 

(God, is this how everyone else sees _her_?)

 

Claire doesn’t stop crying for a long time, tears soaking through Audrey’s shirt and onto the pillow, fingernails digging into Audrey’s skin at the back of her neck but she can’t bring herself to say a thing, just holds her friend closer, whispers gently in Claire’s ear, runs her hand along the therapist’s back until her arm is numb from the motion. In this, for the first time, Audrey realizes with no guilt or regret that she can’t possibly fix her friend; all she can do is be here, comfort her, and somehow that’s enough.

 

(Sometime, after this horrible night is over, maybe she’ll look at the implications of that realization.)

 

But for now she just rocks Claire gently, fingers combing through her dark hair, feels the therapist slowly, slowly relaxing. Audrey can feel every muscle as it loosens, imagines Claire running through some sort of shrink litany in her head and can’t help smiling a little.

 

“You think you could get back to sleep?” Audrey asks eventually, praying she can. And that her rest won’t be riddled with nightmares. Claire nods a little, rather unconvincingly, and Audrey sighs. “You don’t need to lie to me,” she murmurs, wiping gently at Claire’s cheeks. “You need to rest, Claire. What will help?” Claire hiccups a few breaths, eyes closed in her pale face.

 

“Xanax,” she whispers. “I-in my bag…” Audrey bites the inside of her cheek so hard she tastes blood, knows she _absolute cannot_ ask about that now. _Absolutely fucking cannot_.

 

Instead she nods and climbs out of bed to find the medication. Tries to ignore the way her hands shake, just a little, forces herself not to read the label or shake the bottle or think about why the _fuck_ Claire would have these with her, why she’d _need_ them, why she wouldn’t fucking _tell_ Audrey-

 

 _Because it’s none of your damn business_ , her mind snaps, and Audrey agrees with it for once in a very rare while. At least for tonight.

 

She slips back under the blankets and gives Claire the pill wordlessly, tugging the doctor’s trembling body back into her arms. “I’m still here,” she soothes, tucking Claire under her chin. “I’ll be right here all night, honey. You just close your eyes, rest. Let me take care of you, okay?” Claire shivers, eyelids fluttering closed as her breathing evens out over the next few minutes.

 

Audrey thinks she’s finally asleep when the doctor whispers, “Audrey?”

 

The cop immediately soothes a hand along Claire’s back, answers, “Right here.”

 

“Thank you.” Claire’s voice is slurred and exhausted, but the tension that had run through it for hours is finally gone.

 

Audrey smiles a little, says softly, “Of course, Claire. Now please sleep.”

 

**_xxx_ **

 

_just give me time_  
 _you know your desires and mine_  
 _so wrap my flesh in ivy and in twine_  
 _for i must be well_

_keep the earth below my feet_  
 _for all my sweat, my blood runs weak_  
 _let me learn from where i have been_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are love! =)


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